


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


























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Brave Ibeart Series 


Brave Heart Elizabeth 

A STORY OF THE OHIO FRONTIER 


ADELE E. THOMPSON 

♦ r 

AUTHOR OF 

“Beck’s Fortune” and “Betty Sbldon, Patriot” 


ILLUSTRATED BY LILIAN CRAWFORD TRUE 


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boston 

LEE AND SHEPARD 
1902 


FhF "library of 


CONGRESS, 
T'vo Coptt.^5 Received 

jUI. 28 1902 

OOPVRIOHT ENTRY 

a p'l^ 
Cl A88 XXc. No. 

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COPY B. 


Copyright, igoa, by Lee and Shepard 
P ublished August, igoa 

A// rights reserved 


Brave Heart Elizabeth 


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J. S. Cushing & Co,— Berwick «& Smith 
Norwood, Mass. U, S. A. 


FORE-WORD. 


This story is not history, but it is true to 
history, as its incidents are to the life and 
times portrayed. As for Elizabeth Zane, Brave 
Heart Elizabeth in very truth, her name is a 
familiar one in the early annals of the Ohio 
border, while history, story, poem, have again 
and again told of her heroic deed at the mem- 
orable siege of Wheeling, and Eort Henry. 

In the endeavor to again gather and retouch 
this picture of a day already well-nigh for- 
gotten, especial obligation is acknowledged to 
a descendant of Elizabeth Zane, Miss Verne 
Clark, who from family records has kindly 
furnished a number of hitherto unpublished in- 
cidents of her girlhood, including her daring 
capture of the horses of the Hessian troopers, 
the episode of the cherry tree and the young 
lieutenant, and the shooting of the panther, 
together with much of interest — because au- 
thentic, concerning her life and personality, 
the manner of girl, so gay, proud, tender, un- 
selfish, fearless, she really was. 


FORE-WORD. 


And though long ago Unis was written 
across the last page of her earthly record, still 
against the shadowy background of the long- 
vanished fort and forest she seems to smile, 
her face alight with the brightness that years 
nor sorrows could ever quench, her eyes glow- 
ing clear, unfaltering, as on the day when she 
went out to meet that leaden rain. And see- 
ing her thus we, too, would say : 

“ Here’s to the maiden plump and brown, 

Who ran the gauntlet in Wheeling town, 

Here’s to the record without a stain, 

Beautiful, brave Elizabeth Zane.” 

April ph, igo2. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I 

PAGE 

Westward Ho! 7 

CHAPTER II 

Aunt Alsara 16 

CHAPTER HI 

Breaking Home Ties 28 

CHAPTER IV 

Elizabeth 41 

CHAPTER V 

The Westward Way 52 

CHAPTER VI 

Along the Way 66 

CHAPTER VH 

The Pipe of Peace 76 

CHAPTER VHI 

At Pittsburg 87 

CHAPTER IX 

New Acquaintances 98 


3 


4 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER X 

PAGE 

The River Way io6 

CHAPTER XI 

The Journey’s End ii6 

CHAPTER XII 

A Glimpse of Border Life 128 

CHAPTER XHI 

In the New Home 142 

CHAPTER XIV 

Fact and Legend 156 

CHAPTER XV 

My First Guest 167 

CHAPTER XVI 

An Escaped Captive 180 

CHAPTER XVII 

The Fete of the Dauphin 195 

CHAPTER XVIH 

Elizabeth and the Panther 207 

CHAPTER XIX 

A Wyandotte Chief 218 

CHAPTER XX 

Wild Plums 229 


CONTENTS 


5 


CHAPTER XXI 

PAGE 


The Alarm 240 

CHAPTER XXII 

To the Fort 249 

CHAPTER XXHI 

Beleaguered 259 

CHAPTER XXIV 

Brave Heart Elizabeth 271 


CHAPTER XXV . 


From Then till Now 


284 





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ILLUSTRATIONS. 


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Elizabeth/’ chidp:d a gentle voice 


PIPE 




DISTINGUISH A DARK HEAD . 

An instant more and there was 

THH SHARP CRACK OP^ THE RIFLE 

Fast as the bullets fly her 

FLEETER 


PAGE 

• Frontispiece 

: . . . 42 


PEACE- 


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COULD 

. 

181 


P’LASH, 

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TEP IS 

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Brave Heart Elizabeth. 


CHAPTER I. 

WESTWARD HO. 

Keep up a brave heart, Phoebe ! 

It was a morning in late autumn, but warm 
and bland I mind me as though frost and win- 
ter were still far away, that standing on the 
stone steps of the snug stone farmhouse by the 
side of Aunt Alsara and Uncle Elam Wait 
with these farewell words sounding in my ears, 
I watched my father ride away on his stout 
gray horse. Where the road wound out of 
our sight, by the clump of russet oaks at the 
bend of the brook, he drew rein and turning 
in his saddle looked back towards us with a 
wave of his hand. We all waved ours in 
answer, but I heard Aunt Alsara draw a quick, 
hard breath, the while a mist of tears sadly 
blurred my own eyes. 

For well did I realize all the uncertainty this 
parting held for us, as also its possibility that 
I might never see the face so dear to me again. 

7 


8 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


For on that sunny November morning my 
father was setting out to face the dangers of 
the new, the distant, and to us of 1782, the 
half mythical as well as almost unknown region 
of the far, far West, the Ohio. 

True it was not the first time when with a 
swelling heart I had watched him away. With 
his musket slung at his saddle bow he had 
been one of those who had left home and safety 
to join the Patriot army in the early days of 
the Revolution. But that was six years before, 
and the distance is wide indeed betwixt the 
thoughts and feelings of a little girl of ten 
and one of sixteen. How little, as I now real- 
ized, I had known of life that other morning, 
when by my mother’s side I had fluttered my 
small pink pinafore in farewell. True I had 
heard of a battle at Lexington and Concord, 
I had seen the excitement of those about me, 
the stern grave faces of the men as they talked; 
I knew that in some way our liberty was in 
danger, liberty I connected with the liberty 
tree on the village green, and I was sure that 
my father was doing something brave and 
noble, something that made my mother smile 
even through her tears. But how dim had 
been my understanding, vague and childish. 

Now though Aunt Alsara often called me 


WESTWARD HO! 


9 


child, especially if it was in the way of chid- 
ing, I knew that I was a child no longer, some- 
times indeed I felt far older even than my six- 
teen years. Nor was this strange for the years 
in passing had held their measure of change, 
and sorrow, and later of anxious waiting. It 
was from a Long Island homestead that my 
father had first left us. A low brown house 
set among the orchards, with a glimpse of 
the Sound from a hill behind the house; and 
far to the eastward a light-house whose light 
I loved to see at night, and up whose winding 
stair I had once been taken that I might see 
the great lantern of prismed glass, whose light 
I had so often watched. But into this quiet 
life came a day when the people around wore 
pale and frightened faces. The British had 
landed on Long Island, and half in terror, half 
fascinated by the sight, I watched the march- 
ing past of the troops in their scarlet uniforms. 

Soon followed the heavy news that Wash- 
ington had been forced to retire before Howe, 
and the British were in possession of New 
York, and a little later arrived Uncle Elam. 
For Aunt Alsara, his wife and my father’s 
sister, was minded that Long Island in the 
hands of the enemy was no longer a safe place 
for us, and my father, whom Uncle Elam had 


lO 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


Stopped at the camp of the army to see, quite 
agreed with them. So as quickly as it might 
be Uncle Elam packed us off, and I saw the old 
home, for the last time as it proved, as we 
drove away from it in the dim liglit of that 
wintry morning in early December. 

I well remember how long the journey 
seemed to me across New Jersey, to Pennsyl- 
vania, below Philadelphia, and what with 
the cold and the rutted frozen roads a most 
tiresome one. And there was no cheer 
anywhere, for almost every one was dis- 
heartened over the reverses to the patriot 
cause and full of gloomy forebodings as 
to the future. But Uncle Elam had been out in 
the French and Indian war, — it was a knee 
stiffened by a wound then that only kept him 
from being in the army now. He had been 
one in that dreadful battle wherein General 
Braddock met defeat and death, and there had 
seen the splendid courage, and the calm wisdom 
of young Major Washington, as he was then: 
indeed Uncle Elam always said, what is now 
matter of history, that had General Braddock 
but listened to Washington the fateful disaster 
might not have been. And so when people 
talked of our cause as well nigh lost, he would 
answer, Wait a little. I have seen Washing- 


WESTWARD HO! 


1 1 

ton tested, I am ready to stake my life on my 
faith in him.” Then when so quickly after 
came that wonderful victory at Trenton the 
courage and daring of which thrills me yet, he 
was saying, “ What did I tell you ? All Eng- 
land hasn’t the man who can match, or the men 
who can conquer Washington! ” 

But all this is no part of the story I am tell- 
ing, — or yes it is, for from the day my father 
left us the fortune of the war became part of 
my life, and constantly more and more as I 
grew the better able to understand it. At 
the first we went into a little house close by 
Aunt Alsara, where I quickly settled into the 
new life with a child’s careless unconcern. But 
with the coming of spring there was much of 
fever in the town and my mother was one of 
those who sickened. It is true my heart grew 
heavy with a vague disquiet, but I do not think 
I really thought of danger, not even when my 
father was sent for, and securing leave of ab- 
sence came. Surely that joy would make her 
well, nor did I realize till one day, as the 
twilight shadows were gathering, with her 
hand in his, she went out from us and life. 

I will not speak of that sorrowful time, those 
who have known the great loss of the mother 
love out of their young lives will understand, 


12 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


those who have not I would not wish to have 
understand, even if that were possible. Then 
when my father went back to his command I 
became a part of Aunt Alsara’s household. 
Those early days of my loss are like a dark 
dream to me even now. And over it all was a 
new anxiety, a quivering heart beat for my 
father; not only because he was the only one 
of my very own now left to me, but also be- 
cause almost my mother’s last words to me 
had been to always have care for father, to be 
to him the best daughter I could. So it was 
that the thought of, and fear for the dangers 
that compassed him seemed always near: but 
ah me, how many hearts were wrung with fear 
for dear ones through those weary months and 
years ? 

But now the long procession of events was 
past, and with the surrender of Cornwallis the 
month previous had come the crowning tri- 
umph of the alternate loss and gain. My fa- 
ther’s term of enlistment had expired in Au- 
gust, though only a touch of camp fever had 
kept him from going with Washington’s army 
to Virginia. Never once had I said a word to 
withhold him from the service. Well I knew 
it would have done no good if I had, and with 
all my alarms I could not have loved him as I 


WESTWARD HO! 


13 


did had he been less true and brave. But now 
all was changed, the peace so long prayed for 
and so valiantly fought for was in sight: the 
army was being reduced, the need for him to 
give himself to his country was over. 

At the same time it was not possible for 
him to take up the quiet work-a-day life where 
he had laid it down six years before. Mother 
was gone, the Long Island farm whose acres 
he had sowed and reaped had been harried by 
war: the house burned, the pleasant orchards 
cut for camp-fires. “ It is a ruined home,” he 
had said. I would not go back to it if I could.” 

Neither would it have been easy had there 
been the wish, for the men who helped win 
our liberty did so at a cost of treasure as well 
as blood. Like most of the soldiers of the 
Revolution my father came out of the war a 
poorer man than when he entered it, and like 
many another had not only to face but to make 
a new future. At the same time through march 
and battle, toil and danger, I think there had 
awakened in his blood of staid New England 
lineage something of the love of daring, the 
zest for hardship, that must have animated the 
hearts of his ancestors as they ventured to the 
new world over sea. 

Already there had drifted back stories of the 


14 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


wonderful beauty, the fertility, the possibilities 
of what was almost like another new world, 
the new West, at that time best known as “ the 
Ohio.” It was a region for whose possession 
France and England had striven long and val- 
iantly, one where the stout-hearted and strong- 
armed pioneer had already found a home; one 
moreover, where it was told the richest land 
could be had for little more than the clearing, 
where the forests were full of game, and the 
rivers promised highways for future commerce. 

It may be he gave the more heed to these re- 
ports from the fact that Uncle Elam had seen 
somewhat of that country, once with the army 
of General Braddock, and again in the expedi- 
tion under General Eorbes, when he had gone 
as far as Fort Duquesne, and ever since had 
talked much of the noble forests, the rich soil, 
and the great and beautiful rivers. So one 
day my father had said, “ Phoebe, I am going 
out to the Ohio, and if what I hear is true I 
may there make our home. We won that 
country from the French, and a man might 
well feel he was living to some purpose to help 
win it now from the wilderness. I want to 
see it for myself and there is no time to lose 
if I reach there before winter sets in.” 

Yet as I heard him, before the promise of 


WESTWARD HO! 


15 


that home there rose a vision of terror that 
gripped at my throat and would not let me 
speak. And seeing my face he asked half hurt, 
Why child, do you not want a home where 
we can be together?” 

With that I found my voice. “ To be sure I 
do. Father, more than any thing else in the 
world. But the Ohio is so far, and if the for- 
ests are noble they are also full of the dreadful 
Indians, that Uncle Elam saw at the battle 
with painted faces and horrible war whoops, 
ready to steal on their victim, to kill and scalp 
without mercy. And if the game be plenty 
so are the wild beasts always seeking a prey.” 

With that my father laughed and patted 
my cheek, “ Ah, Phoebe, I see you have lis- 
tened overmuch to Uncle Elam’s stories. But 
have no fear, the troubles with the Indians these 
late years have in large part been fomented by 
the British, with the coming of peace that will 
be done away; and as to the wild beasts for 
them I shall have my rifle.” 

So it was that hardly had the echoes of the 
rejoicing over Cornwallis’s surrender died 
away, when my father had set out on his long 
journey; and my heart which had been so light 
and jubilant over the one grew heavy once 
more. 


CHAPTER 11. 


AUNT ALSARA. 

Aunt Alsara’s voice broke the silence that 
had held us as we watched the retreating figure, 
“ Come Phcebe, the work is half an hour behind 
time, and you know an hour lost in the morn- 
ing is an hour lost all day.” 

With that I turned back into the house to 
my accustomed task of clearing the breakfast 
table, a lump rising in my throat as I lifted the 
cup and saucer from which my father had so 
lately drank his coffee wondering as I did so 
when I could thus serve him again. And while 
every tick of the tall clock in the corner told 
that he was so much further away I took up 
the day’s routine in the quiet, carefully or- 
dered round of Aunt Alsara’s household : where 
every thing moved at the stroke of the clock, 
and for a cog of the domestic machinery to 
slip half an hour out of place was something 
allowed only on a rare or an important occa- 
sion, while a sorrowful heart would have been 
counted a poor excuse for the neglect of one’s 
ordinary duties. 

i6 


AUNT ALSARA. 


17 


Not that Aunt Alsara was hard-hearted, 
but that she was a woman of exact method, 
from the washing of her cameo pin the first 
Thursday of each month, on through the cal- 
endar of spinning, soap-making, geese picking 
and house-cleaning. All she set her hand to 
was done by rule. Every day and every hour 
in the day had its appointed work, and must 
be finished by a set time. 

So well was this known that it was often said 
one could tell the time might they bu£ see what 
Aunt Alsara was doing. And as to the in- 
flexibility of her fixed days and .seasons the 
story was told that she once refused to go to 
the funeral of a relative because it was on Mon- 
day, wash-day. I never quite believed this, 
though I recall an occasion when she was in- 
vited to meet a girlhood friend on a Monday. 

Ed like to see Parthena again,’’ she had said 
regretfully, if only it was any other day.” 

“ But why can’t you go as it is ? ” I had 
questioned. 

Because if I once let my work get ahead of 
me I shan’t catch up with it the whole week.” 

“ Then let me do the washing. I’m sure I 
can.” 

Mercy, Phoebe, you forget that there are 
the hemstitched sheets and pillow-cases from 


i8 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

the spare-room, that I used when Elder West 
and his wife were here, and my very best table- 
cloth. You might manage the every ^day 
things, but I wouldn’t trust anybody but my- 
self with them.” 

‘‘ But can’t they lie over till next week,” I 
had urged, “ I know Mrs. Hill will be disap- 
pointed if you don’t come.” 

“ I can’t help it, “ and her lips shut firm and 
straight, “ I never was one of those hap-haz- 
ard housekeepers, who do every thing higglety- 
pigglety. Monday is wash-day, and it’s few 
Mondays my clothes have missed being on the 
line. I came pretty near it though,” reflec- 
tively, the Monday when your Uncle Elam’s 
mother died here; when she fell in the fit I 
just had the last piece wrung out. And glad I 
was too, for Elam’s niece, Emeline, offered to 
do it as soon as she came, and Emeline always 
left streaks in her clothes. Spite of all I could 
say she would do the ironing; she meant well, 
Emeline did, but she scorched the bosom of 
one of your uncle’s best shirts, and she made 
marks on the kitchen floor where she stood.” 

I need not say that Aunt Alsara’s house was 
a model, to me the model, of neatness: the 
kitchen floor and table were always whitely 
scoured, the windows never knew a speck, the 


AUNT ALSARA. 


19 


bricks in the clean-winged hearth were red 
with rubbing, the tall brass candlesticks on the 
shelf above, and the pewter platters on the 
dresser shone with lustre. Early set in motion 
the work of the house was early '' done up,” and 
there were long quiet hours in the still house 
when our needles went in and out adown the 
long seam, or the w-h-i-r of the spinning- 
wheel made vibrant the air. It was in those 
hours that I learned the skill in needlework 
which has often served me such good purpose, 
as also to draw a smooth and even thread, with 
other housewifery arts and habits for which I 
have since thanked Aunt Alsara. 

Wherever she moved things seemed to fall 
into order, even the cat lay on its appointed 
cushion; but being a wise cat she knew that 
was the part of discretion. I used to fancy that 
the flies buzzed softer in Aunt Alsara’s house 
than any other. As for herself, she came out 
of her bed-room in the morning with her hair 
carefully combed, a white kerchief at her 
throat, an unrumpled dress, and so she went 
through the day. Dirt was never attracted to 
Aunt Alsara; and the neatness of her dress 
made the more prominent any spot of soil on 
my own, while looking at her satin smooth hair 
made me ashamed of mine, that would crinkle 


20 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


and rough in every breeze though I secretly 
tried to rub it down with the candle. With her 
there was never the flurry of haste, nor con- 
fusion, nor disorder, nor change. I recall a 
Quaker aunt of Uncle Elam’s saying to her, 
Alsara, thee hasn’t changed a thing since I 
was here twenty years ago, not even the nail 
where thee hangs thy flat-iron stand.” And 
with a look of surprise she had answered, 
“ Why should I ? I can go over my house now 
and put my hand on anything I want in the 
darkest night.” And she could. 

Looking back now I realize that though she 
never said so still it must have been a trial to 
Aunt Alsara to take a careless child like my- 
self into her Jiome and life, and though it was 
never done wilfully, yet none the less I must 
have tried her sorely. For I would forget to 
scrape the soles of my shoes with the old knife 
kept just outside the door for that use, and so 
make a track on the white and sanded floor, — 
it was never but one track, that always brought 
me to remembrance; things in my hands had a 
way of spilling; sometimes there were mis- 
haps when I took the pies and cakes from the 
big brick oven, I got flour on my apron when 
I baked, I often forgot to hang the teakettle 
on the right hook; in short I could but have 


AUNT ALSARA. 


21 


broken sadly into the routine which through 
the years had become more than a habit, a 
second nature. 

Twice a year the minister and his wife were 
invited to tea. These were solemn occasions, 
preceded by the baking of pound cake, the 
opening and airing of the parlor, resplendent 
with its claw-foot mahogany, the bringing 
out from the corner cupboard of the sprigged 
china, the thin silver teaspoons, and little silver 
cream- jug, all sacredly kept. '|'he widow of a 
former minister was usually invited at the 
same time, but when the regular time came 
round the winter of which I write the minister’s 
wife had a niece staying with her. “ Shall I go 
to Mistress Hope’s too ? ” I asked as I tied 
on my cloak and hood to bear the stated invita- 
tion to the parsonage. For a moment she hesi- 
tated, “ No, I think not this time, I must ask 
Olive Brooks with her aunt, and if Mistress 
Hope came that would make three on one side 
of the table, and two on the other, and no order 
to it.” Dear Aunt Alsara, I hope there is order 
enough in heaven to satisfy even her soul. 

I tell these things as showing the life that 
had been mine these years, and the household 
which had been my home. A quiet and noise- 
less home, whose placid atmosphere was seldom 


22 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


stirred, where precision was the rule from the 
time we were astir in the morning till the tall 
clock struck eight in the evening, which was 
the signal for Uncle Elam to take down the 
big Bible for the chapter and prayer, to which 
followed the winding of the clock and the cov- 
ering of the fire, and half past eight saw the 
lights out and the household hushed for the 
night. 

One hard thing about my father’s going out 
to the Ohio had been that it would take him so 
far beyond any post-rider, and that only by rare 
good fortune could we hope to hear from him 
during his absence, so there was no small re- 
joicing when one February day a letter came 
from him, which he had found the chance to 
send by a friendly hand to Fort Pitt, whence 
it had come on with a military express. 
With eager fingers I broke the seal and un- 
folded the large, closely written sheet which 
ran, 

“Beloved Daughter: You will rejoice 
to know that by the blessing of Providence I 
am safely at the end of my journey, which is 
also the spot, I trust will be our future home. 
This, from which I now write, is the settle- 
ment of Wheeling, of some forty houses, on 


AUNT ALSARA. 


23 


the Virginia side of the Ohio, eighty miles 
below Fort Pitt, which your Uncle Elam 
best knows as old Fort Duquesne. The place 
is one beautiful for situation, with the promise 
of growing in prosperity as the country be- 
comes settled, — as it will once people learn of 
its richness. It is also protected by Fort 
Henry, which except Fort Pitt is the strongest 
fort on the frontier, and which so repelled an 
attack by the Indians some years since that 
little danger is apprehended of their repeating 
the attempt. Best of all is the character of 
those comprising the place. Most of them are 
from the upper counties of Virginia and Mary- 
land, many of them are men already under- 
standing and inured to the hardships of fron- 
tier life. For the most part they are of staid 
habits, sterling worth, united with great energy 
of character, and patriotism, feeling withal 
that by their efforts they are not only serving 
themselves but also their country. I would 
especially make mention of the man to whom 
Wheeling owes most. Colonel Ebenezer Zane, 
who discovered the site and with his brothers 
was the first comer. A man of rare judgment, 
prudence, and force as also integrity of char^ 
acter is Colonel Zane, with a wife of whose 
hospitable kindness as well as sterling worth 


24 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH.' 


I have not now space to enlarge upon. Thus 
you may assure Aunt Alsara that it is among 
no wild or half barbarous people — as she 
seemed to fear — that I would bring you; but 
to a community, small it is true and struggling 
against many difficulties, but for the most part 
sober, decorous and God-fearing. At the same 
time Phoebe, I would not have you ignorant that 
the life here is far different from any you have 
known. The houses are of logs, and as every- 
thing has to be brought over the mountains, in 
large part still by pack-horses, much of the 
furniture is such as can be made here with the 
ax; and many a time since I saw you have I 
slept, and soundly at that, on the soft side of a 
basswood puncheon floor. But I hope to have 
things as comfortable as may be against your 
coming, and I trust my Phoebe has too much 
the spirit of which pioneers are made to mind 
for a time the absence of some accustomed com- 
forts. Need I say that I am looking forward to 
the day when I can have my daughter with me 
again, and though the log house I am making 
ready to build against your coming may seem 
rude, none the less it will be home. And as 
the price of carriage from Philadelphia is six 
pence for each pound, I would caution you to 
bring with you only such things as be needful. 


AUNT ALSARA. 


25 


taking Aunt Alsara’s mind as to the matter of 
these, and to pack these in as small compass as 
is possible. When spring opens I shall hope 
to either come or send for you as opportunity 
offers, till then with my best duty and regards 
to Aunt Alsara and Uncle Elam, I remain 
“ loving Father, 

“ Abner Burrelle. 

P.S. The Zane's have a sister at boarding- 
school in Philadelphia, who may likewise, they 
tell me, come out in the spring.” 

I need say nothing of the excitement and 
interest this letter caused us. Of course we 
could find the location on no atlas, — for at 
that time beyond the Alleghanies was almost 
an unknown world; but Uncle Elam had an 
old military map, and taking the distance from 
Fort Pitt, or Fort Duquesne as he still called 
it, we decided about where Wheeling must be, 
and what gave him the most pleasure in the 
place was the fact that it was provided with a 
fort. 

And with all this there came back afresh 
to Uncle Elam the memory of his old cam- 
paigning, and he had much to tell of the 
memorable march of Braddock's expedition 


26 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


from Fort Cumberland, where he had joined it, 
and of that fateful July day, when the Indians 
overwhelmed the little army, and the battle be- 
ginning with a surprise ended in a rout. Nor 
did he ever fail to repeat the story of the 
courage and daring of the young Virginia offi- 
cer of militia, Major Washington, how in the 
midst of that murderous fire from an unseen 
enemy he had ridden unharmed and unafraid, 
and by his own spirit had inspired the hearts 
of those around him, and safely led the rem- 
nant in retreat. 

As for myself it had long been understood 
between my father and me, in truth there had 
hardly been need of words to express it, that 
wherever he went there was I to go also; and 
while I was glad in the thought that we were 
to be together once more, that I was to make 
for him a home, there had still been the lurking 
hope in my heart that it might not be so far 
from all I had ever known. For, sad as it is to 
confess it, mine was a coward nature. When 
a child I mind well what I suffered for fear of 
the dark, ‘and the terror that came over me if 
I had to enter a dark room or go through a 
dark passage; but I was shamed lest anyone 
should know it even then, how much the more 
now when I was a child no longer, but a grown 


AUNT ALSARA. 


27 


girl, who was to be a woman from this time 
on. None the less little shivers would run up 
my back whenever I recalled the dreadful 
stories Uncle Elam had told me of the Indians 
killing and scalping folk, and I would wake 
in the night from a troubled dream and put 
my hand up to be sure my hair was really in 
its place. I was still going to school winters, 
having advanced from the front benches, where 
my little feet swung far from the floor, to the 
row of desks along the wall reserved to the 
oldest scholars; but as I sat bending over copy- 
book or lesson betwixt my eyes and the page 
there would come a picture of a swift-flowing 
river, a log house set against a forest back- 
ground, and often of a dark-skinned Indian 
creeping stealthily towards it. And whether I 
were the more eager or more afraid for the 
change it would be hard to tell. 


CHAPTER III. 


BREAKING HOME TIES. 

Spring came at last. The snow melted till 
all the streams were bank full, as though some 
high tide of the ocean had risen and flooded 
them; the tree buds swelled and reddened and 
broke into the tracery of tender leaves; across 
the fields grew first a faint tint of green, that 
brightened and deepened till everywhere the 
world was lush with the upspringing grass. 
The big lilacs on each side of the gate began 
to show their budding spikes, and daffodils 
made gay the border, where in due time should 
bloom snowballs, spicy grass pinks, roses, 
poppies and hollyhocks. An odorous breath 
even came from the garden, where in a corner 
was the chamomile bed, whose aromatic blos- 
soms made into a pillow, were supposed to be 
a sovereign cure for sleeplessness, and sundry 
other ills; while close beside grew sage and 
summer savory, hoarhound and dill, worm- 
wood, mint and anise. My old friends, too, 
the robins and bluebirds, returned to sing and 
28 


BREAKING HOME TIES. 


29 


nest again; and, shamed am I to say it, I 
watched every such sign as might a prisoner 
under sentence, for with it all was not the day 
drawing nearer when I must face the fearsome 
untried, — the terrible untried I would have 
said had it not at the same time held what 
was the centre of heart and life, my father. 

Acting on his suggestion such things as 
seemed absolutely needful were packed and 
ready. This had been done with much of 
mingled lamentation and injunction on the 
part of Aunt Alsara, “ Tve packed your linen, 
Phoebe, in the green chest, see that you put in 
fresh lavender when this gets dry, and when- 
ever the sheets begin to get thin in the middle 
turn them. With the blankets and pillows I 
have put in the china cups and plates, the silver 
spoons that were your mother’s it will be safest 
to take with you; remember the pewter is for 
common and these are only to be used when 
you have company; and keep your best table 
linen for that too. And be careful never to 
let your spoons get scratched with the knives 
or forks. You mean well but girls like you are 
apt to be careless. Oh dear,” with a sigh, “ if 
brother Abner had but been minded to settle 
somewhere near that I could have kept an eye 
on your housekeeping.” 


30 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


“ But you know,” I had urged, “ that he can 
get so much land there, and for so little.” 

“ He may not find it so cheap in the end. It 
never was my way to run after the new and 
strange, I like things to be settled. Nobody 
knows when we shall ever hear from you either, 
and it isn’t likely there’ll ever be a post as far 
west as the Ohio.” 

“ Oh yes, Alsara,” Uncle Elam had remon- 
strated, You forget that Fort Pitt, as they 
call it now, is in that region. No doubt that 
will always be needed as a military post, and 
because of that there will always be communi- 
cation; of course not every week, as we have 
from Philadelphia, but I shouldn’t wonder if 
in time there was a regular post-rider every 
month or two.” 

Aunt Alsara looked incredulous, a feeling I 
likewise shared, “ But Phoebe,” resuming the 
subject, one thing, be sure and have system 
in your work. Have your regular days for 
doing everything, and keep to them — I don’t 
know when I have missed baking on Tuesday 
and Saturday. I’ve copied out my recipe for 
pound cake, one that my grandmother used, 
for you, always keep a loaf on hand in case 
company comes unexpected. But I’m sure I 
don’t see how you can ever set a decent table if 


BREAKING HOME TIES. 


31 


you don’t take a table, you do need that fall- 
leaf cherry one, and the tall mahogany 
bureau.” 

“Yes, but they are so heavy, and you know 
what father said.” 

“ Yes, I know, and no doubt there will be 
cabinet makers there. And I have tried to 
teach you how to order a house against the time 
when you should make a home for your father, 
I trust you will bear all in mind I have told 
you.” 

And I accepted advice and admonition, with 
a doubt in my mind, which did not seem to oc- 
cur to Aunt Alsara, if the household conditions 
awaiting me would be quite like those I had 
known. 

At last one day in later May when the lilacs 
were a-bloom and the orchards a glory of pink 
and white, through the old postman, who made 
his leisurely weekly way on his stout gray 
horse, there came another letter from my fa- 
ther instead of his dear self, as I had hoped. 
In this he told me that as Colonel Zane was 
coming east for his sister Elizabeth, he had 
decided not to make the journey, the more so 
as he was anxious to get in a crop as provision 
for the future, and he had arranged that I 
should accompany Colonel Zane and his sister 


32 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


on their return. Then followed directions to 
Uncle Elam concerning the horse he should 
buy for me, for the journey was to be made on 
horseback, and the other articles with which I 
was to be provided. 

With that the bustle of. preparations began 
in earnest. And as it was quickly noised 
abroad that Phoebe Burrelle was about to start 
for the Ohio, I soon found myself a person of 
importance, such as I had not hitherto, and 
should not otherwise have been now. In con- 
sequence I was invited to a round of solemn 
tea drinkings, while almost all who knew me 
came to bid me farewell, and many of them to 
say that they expected to see my face no more, 
while one old lady even referred to me as a 

living corpse ” consigned to the tomb of the 
far away Ohio. 

And while all this put me somewhat in mind 
of a funeral I cannot say that I did not feel the 
dignity it conferred, and I am sure it gave to 
Aunt Alsara a certain decorous pleasure; and 
at her request, the Sunday before I was to 
start, the minister preached a suitable sermon 
from Exodus xxxiii: 15, “If thy presence go 
not with me, carry us not up hence.” 

Though I kept it well to myself, for the dis- 
grace of such a feeling when I was going to 


BREAKING HOME TIES. 


33 


my father, all this made me so low in spirit 
that it was only with effort I kept up a brave 
face. And at last the eventful day came when 
I was to go to Philadelphia, to meet Colonel 
Zane and his sister. Uncle Elam was to ac- 
company me this first stage of the journey and 
the household was early astir, the horses sad^ 
died and waiting at the door. When the pre- 
tense — at least on my part — of breakfast was 
over, and I stood ready on the steps. Aunt Al- 
sara held me close for a moment. “ Phoebe, 
dear child,'' the even voice breaking, “ the 
Lord guide and guard you." 

Dear Aunt Alsara ! At times I had inwardly 
rebelled aganst her unvarying routine, and the 
strict rule and ordering of my life; but with 
the loosening of her arms I felt the stay and 
protection they had been to me; and in that 
moment when I was leaving the known, the 
familiar, for the strange, the untried, I realized 
as never before how safe, how guarded a life 
mine had been, and the strong fibres my heart 
had sent out around what had so long to me 
been home, and which it was hardly to be 
hoped I should ever see again. 

Though Uncle Elam made not infrequent 
trips to Philadelphia, and on rare occasions 
Aunt Alsara had accompanied him, it so hap- 


34 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


pened that I had never seen the city since the 
time of my passing through it as a child, of 
which I had but a child’s misty remembrance. 
For that reason, and because I was at an age 
when young eyes are eager and curious, in spite 
of the heaviness which still weighed on my 
heart, I gazed about with great interest when 
in the late afternoon of the sunny June day we 
entered its streets. 

Uncle Elam never wearied in praise of the 
place and he soon pressed close to my side, 
“ Phoebe, you must know that this is not only 
the largest city you have ever seen, but the 
largest city in the country; no other has so 
many streets, so many houses, so many people, 
so much wealth, so great renown. Here Con- 
gress has held its sessions, here Independence 
was declared, here will be the Capital of our 
New Nation.” 

And with eyes used at most to the sights of 
a quiet village I was as much impressed as he 
could have wished with the long rows of 
houses, the fine buildings, the places of interest, 
as he pointed them out, and most of all with the 
crowds that filled the streets. For the business 
of the day being well past the walks, especially 
on the street they called Chestnut, were full of 
people in what seemed to me wondrous rich 


BREAKING HOME TIES. 


35 


and fashionable dress. The gentlemen with 
three-cornered cocked hats, heavily laced, above 
their powdered hair, light-colored coats with 
little capes at the shoulder, trimmed with sil- 
ver buttons, and fine ruffles falling over the 
hand. By the side of most hung a sword, as 
was then the custom of gentlemen, and in their 
hands they carried canes, even the young men, 
which they flourished as they bowed to the 
ladies. And the ladies, it fairly took my breath, 
such an array of brocades and taffetas, and 
muslins, displayed over hoops, and crowned 
with feather adorned hats. To be sure there 
were some in soberer attire, with a sprinkling 
of the familiar blue and bluff uniform, and 
even an occasional laborer in leather apron; 
but this was, as Uncle Elam told me, the fash- 
ionable promenade, so these would no doubt 
seek other ways. 

In truth I so much enjoyed all this fine array 
that I quite regretted when we turned into 
another street and so rode on toward the In- 
dian Queen Inn, which had been appointed the 
place of meeting. 

Here Uncle Elam left me in the parlor 
while he went into the public room. We had 
already taken supper before entering the city, 
being not only wearied but dusty from our ride. 


36 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


and I had hardly laid aside my riding-mask, 
when Uncle Elam returned, and with him was 
one who without the need of words I knew to 
be no other than Colonel Zane. Not that he 
was garbed in skins, which would not have 
been strange considering from where he had 
come: though not dressed like the dandies I 
had so lately seen, his suit of brown in cut and 
texture differed but little from Uncle Elam’s. 
At the same time, girl though I was, I uncon- 
sciously felt that here was a man of a different 
mold than any I had ever known; and quiet as 
was his manner something in his bearing, in 
the man himself, carried the conviction that 
you were in the presence of one born to dare, 
to lead, to command. And looking in his face 
I realized that it bore the impress of a strength, 
calm, forceful, and to be trusted. In personal 
appearance he was not very tall; his complex- 
ion was dark, his eyes black and piercing, under 
heavy brows, his nose large and prominent, his 
mouth firm; but form and feature the impres- 
sion they gave then and always, was of power. 
About him was the air of one who had lived 
much in the open and known little of con- 
straint; and his manner though kindly had 
withal a certain bluntness as of a man who had 
given scant thought to outward form. 


BREAKING HOME TIES. 


37 


His sister, he told me, when the greetings 
were over, had not yet come from her board- 
ing-school where the term had just closed, but 
he was expecting her any moment. In his 
hand as he talked he held a copy of the “ Phil- 
adelphia Packet.” 1 have found here quite 
interesting reading,” he said to Uncle Elam, 
“ several columns given to ‘ A letter from a 
Gentleman at the Falls of the Ohio to his 
Friend in New England.’ ” 

“ The Falls of the Ohio,” repeated Uncle 
Elam, Where is that; below you? ” 

“ Yes, well towards the mouth of the Ohio, 
and a most promising point. It was first set- 
tled nine years ago, and called Beargrass Set- 
tlement. But two years ago this spring three 
hundred flat-boats with six hundred emi- 
grants passed down the river, and settled there, 
when the place at once became so important 
that the Virginia Assembly that very May, es- 
tablished the town of Louisville, at the falls of 
the Ohio. Now the first store, and the only 
one in the lower Ohio valley, has been opened 
there this spring.” 

“But how do they ever get goods there?” 
“ Wagons, you know, are beginning to go 
over the mountains, so they are brought that 
way as well as by pack-horses from Baltimore 


38 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


and Philadelphia to Pittsburg, and then down 
the river in flat-boats. Nor will it be long till 
these wagons that now bring out merchandise 
wiir return east loaded with grain.” 

“ It hardly seems possible,” was Uncle 
Elam's comment, “ I was out as far as Fort Du- 
quesne in the French and Indian war, but I 
had no idea people were going to the Ohio as 
you say.” 

“ Yes, we are making history fast. When I 
moved my family to Wheeling in 1770, there 
was not a permanent Anglo' Saxon settlement 
from the source to the mouth of the Ohio. 
Why in 1779, it was said there were but a hun- 
dred and seventy-six white men in the whole 
Kentucky district, now the number could be 
counted up into the thousands. To-day there 
are a few houses opposite the mouth of the 
Licking,* next month it may be a town. For 
the years that are coming will see an inflow such 
as has never been known, and some of these 
now scattered and isolated settlements will make 
the cities of the future, when that region where 
now we are fighting for our own against the 
wilderness and the foes of the wilderness, shall 
have become a safe and settled country.” 


* Now the city of Cincinnati. 


BREAKING HOME TIES. 


39 


“ That time may come.” But there was an 
accent of doubt in Uncle Elam’s tone, and truly 
it did not seem possible then that the hope 
could ever come true. 

Colonel Zane smiled, a trifle grimly I 
thought. “ I understand, the people of the 
East, of Boston, of Philadelphia, know little 
more of us of the frontier than they do of 
China, they think we are a raw-boned, poverty- 
stricken race, and look at us with almost as 
much curiosity as they would a Turk. True 
we live in log-cabins, our money is largely the 
furs of the animals we kill; we have no troops 
to guard us, no judges to- deal out justice for 
us; but we are a defense to ourselves, our jus- 
tice though rude is effective, and while it may 
not be in your lifetime or mine, that great 
region beyond the mountains will yet become 
the richest part of our country.” 

Uncle Elam shook his head, “ You forget 
the Indians.” 

“ Our trouble with them these few years 
past has been in part owing to the British, 
especially at Detroit, with the coming of peace 
that will be ended, and in time the Indian wars 
will be over.” 

“ And how is it now ? ” 

Some unfortunate events have occurred 


40 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


this spring and things are not as peaceful as I 
could wish; but when I left an expedition was 
on the point of starting against the Indians be- 
yond the Ohio with good results 1 will hope.” 

But at that moment a door opened, two 
ladies came in, and with a sudden brightening 
of his face Colonel Zane exclaimed, “ Here 
comes Elizabeth.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


ELIZABETH. 

With a flutter of curiosity I turned to meet 
my traveling companion, Elizabeth Zane. 
Beside a little lady in Quaker drab she stood, 
a young girl of about my own age, tall, slender, 
graceful and straight as an arrow, with an 
elastic buoyancy in every motion. Under her 
broad-brimmed hat a mass of jet black lustrous 
hair was rolled back from a face of striking 
beauty : a face dark and vivid in coloring, the 
features fine and regular, with eyes large, 
bright and black, that looked straight and 
frank into yours from under eyebrows beauti- 
fully arched and crossing. Even in that first 
glance my heart went out to her, and as a 
stranger I felt, what I so well learned later, 
that hers was a nature large, and strong, and 
generous, on which a weaker one like mine 
could safely rest. 

With a quick light step she crossed the room 
and took both my hands, “ And this is Mistress 
Phoebe Burrelle, who is going to take her west- 
41 


42 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


ward way with us. I have wanted to see you, 
I am glad to see you, we will be friends I 
know,” and with a sudden motion, for she was 
taller than I, she bent and kissed my lips. 

“ Elizabeth ! ” chided a gentle voice behind 
her, “ thee will always be a child of impulse.” 

“ To be sure I will. Friend Amabel,” and 
her laughing face turned to the speaker. “ But 
thee knows thee has had to admit that mine 
were usually good impulses, and I am sure 
this is a correct one, if not according to the 
rule of formal decorum thee has so often given. 
This you must knpw,” to me, is Dear Friend 
Amabel, who, for all I have often been an inapt 
scholar, has made my school-days so pleasant 
that I am loth to leave her even in the gladness 
of going to my own kinsfolk.” 

“ And truly loth am I to have thee go,” an- 
swered Mistress Amabel, “ that is the sad part 
of my work, that I am always making my girls 
ready to leave me, I can only hope they bear 
with them something of what I have tried to 
teach. 

“ And now Friend Zane,” to Colonel Zane, 
“ that the hour has come for our parting, it 
gives me pleasure to say that though thy sister 
has a full share of the youthful spirit of gayety, 
and is somewhat given to the love of adven- 


ELIZABETH, 


43 


ture, of which a not unworthy one may have 
reached thy ears; she has still been a diligent 
student, and by her kind, truthful and unselfish 
spirit has won both our regard and affection.” 

Colonel Zane expressed his pleasure at this 
good report, and after a few more words of 
thanks to Friend Amabel for her care over his 
sister, he and Uncle Elam went out to make 
further preparation for the westward journey 
which we were to begin on the morrow. 

Elizabeth had laid off her hat, and vastly 
becoming it was tied down with scarlet rib- 
bons under her chin, and seated herself in one 
of the Straight-backed chairs; and after a little 
further talk, mostly in the nature of injunction. 
Mistress Amabel, small and plump, with 
the roundest and rosiest of apple faces inside 
her shirred drab silk bonnet, put one hand on 
each side of the young, glowing face and lifted 
it to her, “ and now, Elizabeth, dear child, one 
word more, however thy life may be ordered 
I trust thee will ever strive to be guided by the 
inward light — if thee does not conform in the 
outward letter thee can nevertheless be true to 
the spirit of thy Quaker ancestors; and where- 
ever thee goes, and thy young companion also, 
* the Lord bless and keep thee ; the Lord make 
his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious 


44 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


unto thee; the Lord lift up his countenance 
upon thee, and give thee peace/ ’’ 

Later in the evening when Elizabeth Zane 
and I were in the room that was to be ours for 
the night, she turned to me with the swift in- 
cisive way she had, “ Well, Phoebe-bird, and 
what think you of it all ? ” 

Then as I looked up startled at the abrupt 
question, “ Yes_, that is just the name that fits 
you, with your bright brown eyes and soft 
brown hair, and demure shy little ways. Oh, 
I doubt you would tell me an you were ill- 
pleased either with the company or the 
journey; you are one of the sort, if I be not 
mistaken, who would go to the stake and make 
no word of murmur. ’’ 

“ Not I, Mistress Zane,” I began in protest, 
when she stopped me with a gesture, “ No, no, 
you must say Elizabeth, my brothers even call 
me Betty; and you shall be Phoebe-bird, that 
I will take under my wing.” And indeed what 
with the strangeness of everything, and the 
wrench of parting with Aunt Alsara and the 
old home life, I had these last hours felt that I 
would gladly be folded under some sheltering 
wing. 

I smiled, a little faintly it may be, “ And 
what of yourself ? ” I queried for it was some- 


ELIZABETH. 


45 


thing I had been asking myself since the first 
moment I saw her, Are you glad to leave the 
life here, for this other so far away and so 
different? ” 

She had laid aside the waist of her dress, of 
buff linen with an embroidered stomacher, and 
put on a little scarlet neglige, with a frill of 
lace about the low square neck, as also the 
loose sleeves that came but to the elbow, and 
had let down the coils of her hair that fell in 
a silky black mass below her knees. “ Am I 
glad ? ” she said thoughtfully, as she paused 
with her hair brush in her hand — “ That is a 
question I have been asking myself these last 
weeks, and, yes, I can truly say I am glad.” 

“ But this is a beautiful city,” and my eyes 
went out of the window by which I was sitting 
to note the handsome houses, the lighted street, 
the passing people. 

“ Yes, America has nothing finer. My life 
here too, has been most pleasant, something 
always beautiful to remember; and I am bound 
to Philadelphia by ties of blood as well as of 
friendship and association, for here my father 
was born and grew to manhood.” 

“ And was he truly a Quaker ? ” 

“ Yes, by birthright, his ancestors, it is told, 
came to Pennsylvania with Penn, but, like 


46 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


many another young man, he loved a girl who 
was not of the Society of Friends, and for her 
sake he forfeited his birthright. But indeed I 
can hardly think of him in a wide-brimmed 
drab hat and single-breasted coat, saying 
meekly ‘ thee ’ and ‘ thou;’ for his is a bold and 
daring spirit, one it is said that delighted in 
adventure in his youthful days, — if his chil- 
dren share the trait it is one they have inherited 
with their blood. So it was he went out from 
the staid and quiet company to carve out a 
new home, on the South Branch of the Poto- 
mac, in Virginia. And so you see I had known 
another, a newer world before I knew this, and 
there is blood in my veins which the thought, 
the remembrance of this sets astir.” 

I sighed, “ But I have never known any 
other; and, for I must tell it now though be- 
fore I have not, while it is the desire of my 
heart to go to my father, to be with him, yet 
there are the great forests, and the wild beasts, 
and the dreadful Indians.” 

“You poor Phoebe-bird,” and sitting down 
on the window-seat by my side, with her hair 
falling like a dark glory about and framing her 
lovely face, Elizabeth put her arm around me, 
“ I saw it in your eyes. But dear-heart, the 
great woods are beautiful, deeps on deeps of 


ELIZABETH. 


47 


green, so shadowy and still, with little flecks of 
sunshine falling through, and the woodsey 
smell of ferns and mosses. You will love the 
woods.’' 

“ But are there not wolves and panthers and 
Indians in them?” 

“ In truth there are, and I know them all. 
For all that I have walked these hot brick pave- 
ments at times when it has seemed that the 
houses hemmed me in, that I suffocated for 
breath, I longed so for the free, the open; and 
when I have sat in the Quaker meeting if there 
was a long silence, as not seldom happens, I 
would hear the wind in the trees close by the 
open window, and feel if I could only fly away 
like the birds, far away to the greenness the 
calm of the great woods.” 

And listening I looked at her with growing 
surprise. Had she just come a girl half wild 
in homespun dress from a cabin in the woods 
it would not have been so strange; but she had 
known advantages such as came to few girls 
at that day, and hers was a grace, an ease of 
bearing, beside which I felt rustic indeed. 

‘‘ But are you not afraid it will seem differ- 
ent when you go back,” I could not forbear 
saying, “ You have been away so long, you 
have learned so much.” 


48 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


She smiled, True I have been to boarding- 
school. I can play the spinet, and paint on vel- 
vet, and can do the latest embroidery stitches ; 
I know the English grammar, and a little 
French, that I may not be wholly ignorant of 
the language of our allies; I understand the use 
of the globes, and have parsed in Master John 
Milton’s ‘ Paradise Lost,’ besides sundry other 
matters. But before ever I knew a needle my 
brothers, they are all so much older, had put 
my small fingers on the trigger of a rifle and 
taught me to fire it, and long before I had ever 
sat at a spinet I could ride any horse that ever 
was saddled. 

“ For a time I enjoy the city, but there 
comes a time when I feel that it binds me in a 
network, so fine that I cannot see the meshes, 
but so strong that I feel the fetters. My fa- 
ther was a pioneer, my brothers are men of 
the frontier, and the frontier blood is strongest 
in my veins. Besides,” and a flush kindled on 
her cheek a light in her dark eyes, “ it seems 
to me a brave life, a hero life, to go out, to 
battle with the wilderness, to overcome, to 
achieve, to endure; to make an easier life pos- 
sible for those who shall come after you, to 
leave an impress on the world; that is what my 
brothers are doing. They are not of those who 


ELIZABETH. 


49 


wear soft clothing, they have no ruffles, their 
hand carries a rifle instead of a cane when they 
walk abroad, they know the secrets of the 
woods rather than the graces of society and 
might show to better advantage in a conflict 
with Indians than at a rout or ball; but they 
are true men, living manly lives, and as such I 
am proud of them, one and all.” 

“ If they are all like Colonel Zane you well 
may be,” I answered, feeling in my own veins 
the thrill of her enthusiasm. 

“ You see what he is, a plain, blunt man, 
rude of speech but true of heart, knowing noth- 
ing of formalities, generous as he is brave, 
caring for little so much as his family, his 
friends, his country. In this he is not only 
like my other brothers, but he is a type of the 
man of the frontier, the pioneer at his best.” 

“ I know it is a brave life, but are you never 
afraid;” and I put the question half anxiously. 

She smiled, drawing her long hair that 
touched the floor as she sat, through her 
fingers, I am almost shamed to say it, for 
you know the old saying that it is those who 
know nothing who fear nothing, but I never 
knew what it was to be afraid in my life, when 
there is danger something within me rises up 
stronger than the danger.” 


50 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


And looking in her face, at the steady bright- 
ness of her eyes, the firm line of her red lips, 
I felt that she but spoke the truth, and that 
fear, — the phantom which so often affrighted 
my timid soul — and her were strangers. 

“ And yet the Indians kill people, and carry 
them off prisoners,” and at the picture my 
words called up I shuddered. 

Alas yes, too well do I know that. The 
youngest of my five brothers when a boy of 
nine was taken captive by the Indians, and it 
was years before we ever knew his fate. That 
was before I was born, but often and often have 
I heard the story told, and my mother mourned 
for her lost boy till the day she died.” 

And was he killed? ” 

“ No,” she answered slowly, “ his fate was 
not death. He was taken beyond the Ohio, 
to a village of the Wyandottes, where he was 
adopted by a chief. Not till he was grown did 
we ever get trace of him, and then — then he 
had come to love their life, I can see that it 
may have a charm; more than that he had 
learned to love the old chief’s daughter : he has 
chosen their lot, his home is a wigwam, and 
he sits a chief also among their leading men 
at the council fire. But withal he has never 
forgotten his birthrace. He is no renegade, 


ELIZABETH. 


51 


like the Girty’s, to redden his hand with the 
blood of his own people: more than one mas- 
sacre has he been able to prevent, many a 
settlement has been saved by his timely warn- 
ing. Wheeling, and his brothers there, owe 
much to him ; over and over to the white man 
has he proved himself a friend.” 

A bell struck the hour from some steeple, 
and a watchman’s cry was heard, “ Ten o’clock, 
and all’s well.” Elizabeth sprang to her feet, 
And here I have been talking when we 
should be asleep, if we are to start betimes 
to-morrow.” 

But when I knelt beside my bed that night I 
returned thanks, as I didjnany a time after, 
that as I went out to meet the life I had so 
feared it was with Elizabeth Zane for a com- 
panion. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE WESTWARD WAY. 

The next morning heard the last words said 
and saw us started on our westward way. As 
we were making ready I touched a white linen 
mask that lay on the dressing-table, “ Did I 
not hear Mistress Amabel give you charge to 
be sure and remember your complexion mask 
when you rode abroad ? ” 

“ Truly I believe so. Friend Amabel looks 
on a freckle as almost a moral blemish, and 
a shade of tan as near akin to a sin; but from 
now on there will be for me no more of face- 
masks to keep off God’s sunshine and fresh 
air, “ and she swept the offending bit of linen 
into her portmanteau. I hesitated a moment, 
with a secret thought of Aunt Alsara’s dis- 
approval did she but know of the action, and 
then emboldened by her words consigned mine 
own to a similar retreat. 

When we were ready to mount, with our 
saddlebags fastened behind our saddles, Eliza- 
beth patted the neck of the stout brown horse 
that stood awaiting her, and looked it over 
52 


THE WESTWARD WAY. 


53 


with a critical eye. “ Very well chosen,” with 
a little nod of approval to her brother, I see 
you still have a pretty taste in horse flesh, but 
a white horse you know, is my favorite.” 

” I know,” he answered drily, “ but there 
are times when a brown horse is best.” 

She gave him a quick glance. ‘‘ I remember, 
a brown horse is less apt to be seen by the 
Indians.” And then I understood why all our 
horses were that color. Ah my fine fellow,” 
she added as the high-spirited animal curvetted 
under her, ‘‘ it is a pleasure to be on you, and 
we must be fast friends now, for we are to be 
comrades for many a long day.” 

With a last farewell to Uncle Elam I also 
mounted and very quietly we rode through the 
city streets all astir with the new day. When 
we were well away from these and had passed 
the earthworks which told of the days, now 
happily over, when the fair city had needed 
alike defense and defenders we all, as by a 
common impulse, drew rein and paused for a 
last glance. “ I trust Betty,” and I thought 
there was a half-troubled fear in Colonel Zane’s 
eyes as he spoke, ‘‘ that you will not regret the 
change too much.” 

“ Have no fear for that. Brother. True I 
shall ever remember the happy years I have 


54 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


spent in and around Philadelphia but to re- 
member is not to regret.” 

“ And yet ours is but a rude life for one un- 
used to it. I fully realize that. Sergeant Bur- 
relle was even half in doubt whether to ask 
his daughter to face it.” 

“ Of course I shall share my father’s life 
wherever that may be,” I hastened to say. 

“ Bear in mind also,” added Elizabeth, that 
I have not wholly forgotten what it is like, 
nor yet all my brothers once taught me. Just 
give me a good rifle and a little practice and 
you may try your hand shooting at the mark 
with me,” and touching her horse she can- 
tered gaily ahead. 

At first our way lay through the rich farm- 
ing land of Eastern Pennsylvania, passing 
Chester, and Lancaster, where I saw the bar- 
racks I had so often- heard Uncle Elam refer 
to, built there after the army under General 
Forbes returned from its successful expedi- 
tion against Fort Duquesne and during the 
War of the Revolution used as a place of con- 
finement for British prisoners. From there 
by what was known as the “ northern route ” 
we wound over the Blue Ridge mountains, to 
Shippenburg, and the little town of Bedford, 
thence across the Alleghanies, on through the 


THE WESTWARD WAY. 


55 


forest-clad hills of western Pennsylvania to 
the headwaters of the Ohio, and by way of 
Legonier to Redstone-Old Fort and Pittsburg. 

It is a route easy enough in the telling, but 
oh, the long and wearisome days of travel it 
represents! At its best, and that in the level 
lowlands, the road was only passable; at its 
worst, among the narrow and steep declivities 
of the mountain passes., it was really danger- 
ous especially for the trains of pack horses 
and loaded wagons that labored over it. It 
was also a route which for a large part of the 
way led through a broken region of hills and 
mountains of dense forests and in places of 
almost impassable morasses. 

When it was possible we stopped for the 
night at some wayside inn, as the “ Buck’s 
Horn ” or “ Traveller’s Rest,” which occurred 
at infrequent intervals, often we found shelter 
under the always hospitable roof of some 
pioneer family; and there were still other 
nights when we were forced to halt in the forest 
where darkness had overtaken us. 

As we pressed westward the smooth green 
fields and comfortable houses grew more and 
more infrequent, and at last were wholly ex- 
changed for small stump-dotted clearings, and 
rudely built log cabins set amid the forests. 


56 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

Never have I forgotten the feeling with which 
for the first time I entered one of these, so 
soon to be my own home. And no less mem- 
orable to me was our first night’s encamp- 
ment in the woods. 

Fortunately for our comfort Colonel Zane 
was an experienced woodsman and what to 
me was an event, to him was simply an inci- 
dent. I mind that it was on the wooded shoul- 
der of a mountain that we had stopped. With 
his hatchet he soon had cut a quantity of the 
thick hemlock boughs and with these and a 
pole supported by a couple of forked limbs 
driven into the ground built us a comfortable 
shelter. Before the open side of this, and 
against a broken stump, he then gathered a 
heap of dry leaves and twigs, over which he 
flashed a little powder in the pan of his gun 
and quickly a fire was blazing, by this we made 
our tea and broiled our bacon at the ends of 
pointed sticks, for we had come prepared for 
such emergencies. 

“Have you any jerk?” asked Elizabeth, 
with a laugh. 

Colonel Zane shook his head, “ I used up 
what I had as I was going out.” Then in 
answer to my puzzled look, “ Jerked venison 
is deer’s meat cut in strips and dried Indian 


THE WESTWARD WAY. 


57 

fashion, and is the food that hunters oftenest 
take with them.” 

“ It’s very good,” said Elizabeth, I shall 
be glad to have some jerked venison again. 
Yes and a pair of moccasins. Did you ever 
have any moccasins?” to me. 

I shook my head. 

“ When I was a little girl an old Indian used 
to make and bring me moccasins ; till you have 
had them on you’ll never know what a really 
perfect foot-wear is,” and she gave a disapprov- 
ing glance at her neat low shoes with their 
silver buckles. 

Our simple meal was soon over and we sat 
at ease after our long ride. The moon had 
risen and from under the tall trees I could see 
the mountain heights lifting and blending into 
the blue distance, as they had all day about 
us. Nearer were the brown tree trunks touched 
by the fire-light and thence stretching into the 
shadows of infinite distance and darkness. 
Overhead a fitful night wind murmured in the 
pine branches, an owl, perhaps in protest at 
our vicinity, startled us with a sudden “ Tu- 
whoo-o-o,” and from a distance came a sound, 
one that I had already heard, and which now 
though faint and far sent little shivers over my 
flesh. 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


58 

“ Are they safe ? ” asked Elizabeth, turning 
her head as in response to the owl a half fright- 
ened neigh came from one of the horses tethered 
and feeding near. 

Yes,” answered Colonel Zane, I saw to 
it they were securely fastened. And that re- 
minds me, Betty, I never quite understood 
how you ran off those Hessians’ horses. Tell 
me about it.” 

I glanced at Elizabeth who was leaning back 
against a tree trunk in the circle of firelight, 
the rugged bark making more apparent by con- 
trast her slender figure and delicate beauty. A 
ripple of a smile crossed her face at his words. 
“ Oh, that happened long ago, when I was at- 
tending school at Wilmington and staying at 
Friend James Cross’s, those old friends of our 
father. It was just before the battle of Brandy- 
wine. Every one was in a state of fright and 
excitement, knowing that the British had 
landed at Elk River in Maryland, and were 
marching on Philadelphia. Indeed so near 
were they that General Washington had fallen 
back from Wilmington to make his stand on 
the Brandywine for the battle that all knew 
must come; leaving the town full of fear and 
stories of the terrible Hessian troops. 

Friend Cross, although one of the best of 


THE WESTWARD WAY. 


59 


men, was such a believer in non-resistance that 
I used to think it had swallowed up all his 
courage especially in any danger, and his wife 
and Anne were even worse. So it was in a 
dreadful state of alarm that he came in one 
morning and said that the Hessians were en- 
tering the town and we must all fly for safety 
to Philadelphia, at once. 

“ But some way I didn’t like the idea of 
running before the British, as though we were 
all afraid of them, and then there was the leav- 
ing that beautiful home. So I said ^ No, some 
one must stay and guard the house, and I’d 
stay.’ At first they wouldn’t hear to that; 
Friend Abigail and Anne urged, and Friend 
James said he would never think of leaving me 
behind, and, that Uncle Peter, Tom, and Sally, 
three of the slaves would keep the house. But 
I knew they’d never stay there alone, and — 
well, I suppose I was sadly wilful but in the 
end I had my way, and I stood on the porch in 
the shadow of the tall white pillars and watched 
the carriage drive away, together with a street 
full of other carriages, all headed towards 
Philadelphia. When they were gone I turned to 
Uncle Peter and Tom and Sally, who were 
watching from the door, and told them that 
whatever happened I should stay there and they 


6o 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


must stay with me. And for shame I suppose 
of doing anything else, they promised that they 
would. 

“ The family left in the morning, all day we 
were alone in the big old southern house. But 
just at dusk that same evening fifteen Hessians 
rode up on horseback and stringing their horses 
to one long strap fastened that to a tree in 
front of the house, and marching up to the 
door demanded supper ' at once.’ 

“ I tell you it made my blood boil. But I 
knew better than to refuse. I was always tall 
for my years, you know, so holding myself very 
straight I stepped out into the hall where Tom 
had opened the door, and making my best 
courtesy said it gave me great pleasure to serve 
so fine a company of soldiers. With that the 
officer in command gave a fine bow, and they 
all clattered in, scratching the polished floors 
with their horrid old spurs. I went into the 
kitchen and helped, for the blacks were pretty 
badly scared, and we all made haste to get them 
the best there was in the house; and if they had 
been hunters just in from a day in the woods 
they couldn’t have eaten any more. 

The supper made them so good humored 
that they even praised me for it. So then I 
asked them if they wouldn’t like some cider, 


THE WESTWARD WAY. 


6i 


that though I had never tasted it I had heard 
called very fine. Of course every last man of 
them said ‘ Yes/ so I sent Uncle Peter to the 
cellar for it, and as they too thought it was 
fine I saw that they had a generous supply. • As 
you may guess it was hard cider, the hardest 
kind, and it wasn’t long till they were all drunk, 
helplessly drunk. When that time had come I 
just quietly slipped out and unfastened the 
horses. It was well into the evening by this 
time so there was little danger of my being 
seen, so as they were men’s saddles I mounted 
one of the horses as a man would and led the 
rest. Fortunately they had been ridden through 
the day and so were willing to trot along 
soberly; and fortunately also' Washington’s 
camp was but a few miles south of the town. 

“ When I was at our uncle’s in Philadelphia 
one Saturday afternoon as I was up in a cherry 
tree picking cherries young Lieutenant Morgan 
to whom Susan is engaged came calling in his 
best array. He was such a very important 
young officer that as they were walking about 
the yard as I was in a safe place just for the 
fun of shocking him a bit I began to sing. I 
didn’t know anything that quite fitted the oc- 
casion so I made one up as I went along. Some- 
thing about, 


62 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


‘ Ah, me, how lonely am I, 

She has a beau and none have L’ 

Well for some reason,” and Elizabeth’s eyes 
twiiikled instead of being entertained he 
acted quite put out, and taking Susan into the 
house he said he thought ‘ Elizabeth entirely 
too bold for a child of her age,’ think of that 
will you? Of course Susan agreed with him, 
she always did, and later after he was gone she 
took the ‘ child ’ to task and repeated the ver- 
dict. 

“ So when at last I was come to head- 
quarters where a group of officers were stand- 
ing around a camp-fire who should step for- 
ward but Lieutenant Morgan, as soon as I saw 
him I slipped off my horse and making him a 
courtesy said the ' bold child ’ would like to 
see the General in command. I had hardly 
spoken when a voice beside me said, ‘ What 
may you wish with the General in com- 
mand ? ’ 

“ At that turning I saw General Washington 
himself, standing above them all with his grand 
face so calm and noble, for all it had the look 
of one over whom rested a deep anxiety and 
heavy burden. With that I made him a 
courtesy that had in it no mockery, but the 


THE WESTWARD WAY. 


63 


love and reverence the sight of him ever in- 
spires, and holding out the bridle I said that 
in case he needed more horses for his men I 
had the pleasure to give him these which had 
lately served as many Hessian tropers. And 
when he asked where were those troopers now 
I answered that they were lying drunk on the 
floor of Friend James Cross’s dining-room. As 
was natural they asked further questions and 
when I told how it had come about they all 
laughed, even Washington.” 

“And what did he say?” asked Colonel 
Zane, as Elizabeth stopped. 

It was a moment before she answered and 
then her voice was broken with the emotion 
of the memory. “ Then he grew grave again, 
and he took my hand in his, that hand which 
has so wrought for liberty, and he thanked me, 
and said I was a brave child, that he could have 
no doubt of a cause to which even the little 
maids had given their hearts and their service. 
He wished me happy years to come, and then 
bending down he kissed my hand.” 

As she spoke she held it up before her, “ I 
have looked at it a thousand times since and 
wondered could I ever let it do anything un- 
worthy, the hand that Washington’s lips had 
touched.” 


64 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


“ Well done Betty,” was Colonel Zane’s 
comment in the silence which followed. 

Presently we had rolled ourselves in our 
blankets on the bed of fragrant hemlock boughs 
under our shelter. Colonel Zane had added 
more logs to the fire and it blazed high and 
bright. Beyond it I could see the woods melt- 
ing into dimness, the howl of the wolf was 
nearer, a strange feeling came over me with 
the dark and the forest loneliness, a realization 
that there was now no protecting barrier 
against the wilderness dangers, and creeping 
close to the side of Elizabeth, who could dare, 
and whose courage I more and more admired, 
I reached out my hand to hers. She understood 
the pressure. “ Are you afraid, Phoebe-bird ? ” 
she asked softly. 

Pm — Pm trying not to be. I know that 
Providence will care for us.” 

“ And Providence, for this time, is Ebenezer 
Zane; have no fear, there are few secrets of 
the woods but he knows; as for the wolves they 
will not venture into the firelight, and be sure 
he will keep it burning bright all night.” 

For all the comfort these words gave me I 
was very certain I should not sleep a wink, — ^but 
some way, the first I knew, the sun was send- 


THE WESTWARD WAY. 


65 


ing quivering golden rays under our tent of 
green and stepping from its shelter I saw Col- 
onel Zane coming toward us with a brace of 
birds he had shot for breakfast. 


CHAPTER VI. 


ALONG THE WAY. 

Our route had not become the traveled way 
it was destined to be a few years later, when 
thousands, of the best and bravest of the East, 
toiled slowly and painfully over its rugged 
ways tO' make new homes on the fertile slopes 
and in the rich valleys beyond the Ohio. 

At the same time it was not wholly a soli- 
tary way. Pack trains, with now and then a 
wagon, travelers, home-seekers, were on it, and 
whether we met, or came together at some way- 
side tavern for the night, or, as happened once 
or twice, found a camping-place in each other’s 
company, it was with always something of the 
sense of ships that speak each other when far 
out of sight of land, and with a new under- 
standing of the gladsome sight of a face and 
the kinship of a common blood. 

For this reason small happenings assumed 
importance, and there were not lacking inci- 
dents from the humorous to the pathetic to 
mark our trip. Once I recall we passed a 
66 


ALONG THE WAY. 


67 


family, the father and mother walking, he with 
an ax over his shoulder, she with a wheel-head 
in her hand; the other parts of the wheel and 
a few goods were secured to one horse, another 
horse carried their five children, one in each 
end of a straw bed-tick laid across the horse, 
and the other three perched on his back. They 
had been unfortunate and were going out to 
begin life anew, but with a steady hopefulness 
that promised success. When we had left them 
I remember Colonel Zane’s saying, “ The ax 
and the gun are the making of the West, give 
a man these and he can supply whatever else 
is lacking, with the one he can make the home 
his family must have, with the other he can 
supply the food without which they cannot 
live.” 

Another day we met a tall, gaunt, forlorn- 
looking woman with two children and a few 
household effects in a little wagon drawn by a 
lean old horse. She paused as we drew near 
with the shrill question, “ Be ye goin’ to the 
Ohio?” And in reply to our answer, “Then 
the Lord hev’ marcy on ye. Tve been there, 
an’ Tm goin’ back, with what there is left of 
us, they all git the shakes out there.” 

“ She means the ague,” explained Colonel 
Zane in answer to my inquiring look, “ Tis 


68 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

a kind of sickness that often goes with new 
countries.” 

With a look of pitying contempt the old 
woman went on, only to pause and call shrilly 
back. “ An’ rattlesnakes, too, they’re so thick 
out there they use ’em fer bean-poles.” 

Colonel Zane smiled, and Elizabeth began 
to hum a ballad, in great favor during the years 
of the Revolution, 


‘ While I relate my story, 

Americans give ear; 

Of’ Britain’s fading glory 
You presently shall hear; 

I’ll give a true relation, 

Attend to what I say 
Concerning the taxation 
Of North America.’ ” 

“ I have heard my father sing that,” I said. 

“ Then it may please you to hear that Friend 
James Cross knew the man who wrote it. Mr. 
Peter St. John, a schoolmaster at Norwalk, 
Connecticut, who has also since the beginning 
of the Revolution written many other songs, 
some of which are counted the finest of the 
period. And she continued with another of the 
thirty-seven stanzas: 


ALONG THE WAY. 


69 


“ ‘ Our fathers were distressed, 
While in their native land; 
By tyrants were oppressed 
As we do understand; 

For freedom and religion 
They were resolved to stray, 
And trace the desert regions 
Of North America.” 


For Elizabeth made the way gay, and was 
light-hearted over every hardship; were we 
over tired she jested; did we have to camp for 
the night where the howl of the wolves and 
the panther echoed from the deep woods she 
sang songs or told mirthful stories. ‘‘ How can 
you keep so gay ? ” I asked her one night when 
the rain had beat in our faces and the day been 
more tiresome than usual. 

“ Did you ever read Master Will Shakspere, 
Phoebe ? ” she asked. 

I shook my head, “ No, Aunt Alsara held it, 
as the book of a play actor, in small esteem.’’ 

“ And truly I doubt but Friend Amabel 
would also. But my cousin Jason, who knows 
much of books, approved it to me, and with 
good reason. And there it was I read. 


“ ‘ A merry heart goes all the day. 
Your sad one tires in a mile — a.’ 


70 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


and as I would go all the day, why I needs 
carry a merry heart.” 

But it was also, as I many times proved, an 
unselfish and a tender heart. As one afternoon 
was growing late we came upon a group by the 
side of the road. A young woman sat on the 
trunk of a fallen tree with a baby clasped tightly 
in her arms, while two men, her husband and 
his brother as we soon learned, stood beside 
her their faces full of troubled distress. It’s 
her baby,” the younger of the men explained in 
a low tone, as we paused beside them, aware at 
a glance that they were in trouble. “ It has died 
in her arms and she will not let us take it from 
her.” 

Low as he spoke the mother heard. Yes, 
it’s dead,” she said in a voice as strained and 
unnatural as the set and stony face she lifted. 
“ I knew it hours ago, but I kept it to myself. 
I knew if I told they would want to take her 
from me, and want me to leave her here alone, 
and go on without her. And I will not, I will 
not,” her voice rose shrilly, and she rocked 
herself and the little form in her arms. 

The tears came to my eyes and I looked at 
her in helpless pity, but Elizabeth had already 
slipped off her horse. Will you not let me 
see your baby?” she asked gently. “Dear 


ALONG THE WAY. 


71 


little baby/’ as the mother uncovered the tiny 
face. 

“ Yes my dear little baby ! ” it was a wail- 
ing cry. ‘‘ I knew she was sick, but I never 
thought she was going to die, not once. And 
when I saw she was dead there came such 
an ache to my heart that I had to hold her as 
close as I could against it. But I will not give 
her up. Nobody shall take her from me,” and 
she looked around wildly. 

At a word from her Colonel Zane had lifted 
down Elizabeth’s saddlebag and she was on her 
knees beside it, when she rose it was with 
something white in her hands. “ See this 
pretty dress,” she said. “ Is it not soft and 
white? I was taking it to my brother’s baby, 
but now I would like to put it on yours in- 
stead. You will let me will you not?” 

The mother looked at the dainty dress. 
“ She never had so pretty a one as that,” she 
said wistfully. Then a sudden fear growing in 
her eyes, “ But you will give her back to rfle? 
she shall not be put in the ground and left here 
alone.” 

“ Certainly, you shall have her again.” As 
Elizabeth spoke she lifted the little form from 
the now unresisting arms, and sitting down, as 
tenderly as though it could still feel, slipped off 


72 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


the travel-soiled garments. With the handker- 
chief, which I had dipped for her in a near-by 
spring, she bathed the wee face, brushed back 
the soft hair, and replaced the dress with the 
one so fresh and spotless. “ See,’' she said 
when all was done, to the mother who had been 
watching her in silence, “ how pure and sweet 
the baby looks. She was tired, and the dear 
Lord who loves the little ones knew she wanted 
rest. Will you not lay her down and let her 
rest, and I will cover her with this ? ” and she 
held up a beautiful white silk kerchief. 

The mother’s face was working, “ Poor baby, 
she was tired, but I kept thinking the way would 
be easier by and by, and then she’d chirk up 
again, an’ now, an’ now — ” her voice faltered, 
broke, and turning from us she burst into a 
passion of tears. 

Elizabeth shook her head at her husband 
who had started forward and laid his hand on 
her shoulder, “ Let her be,” she whispered, 
“ the tears will do her good.” 

In the meantime Colonel Zane and the men 
were hastily building a shelter with branches, 
and under this Elizabeth carried the baby. We 
were still among the mountains, and the moun- 
tain laurel was in bloom, in masses of pink and 
white marvelous beauty. I had gathered my 


ALONG THE WAY. 


73 


arms full of these and on them we laid down 
this little human bud, so still and fair. 

When the poor mother recovered from her 
tears her stony mood was broken, the reaction 
of weakness was come after the tension of 
despair, and she clung to Elizabeth as for 
strength and support. 

The next day a rude tiny coffin was fash- 
ioned out of bark, and in this on another bed 
of laurel blossoms we laid the baby. As we 
were doing this the mother looked up through 
her tears, “ Would you, would you mind if she 
had the kerchief too ? It’s so soft like over her 
face.” 

“ It’s such a beautiful one,” I was whispering 
when Elizabeth hushed me with a look. “ Of 
course she shall have it; I am glad to give it.” 
And later she said to me, “ If I had cared for 
it a hundred times more I should still have been 
glad to have given it.” 

A little grave had been hollowed out beneath 
the tall hemlocks, and around it we gathered. 
There was no formal service, but Colonel Zane 
had a father’s heart, and already a little one 
had gone out of his own home, so it was with 
a quiver in his tone that he repeated the words 
of our Lord, “ Suffer the little children to come 
unto me and forbid them not, for of such is 


74 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


the kingdom of heaven.” Turning to his sister 
he whispered, “ Sing something, Elizabeth.” 

The mother heard him. “If you would,” 
she urged. 

For a moment Elizabeth hesitated. Through 
the tree trunks the sunshine fell and lay like a 
finger of light across the open grave,, a passing 
breath stirred the odorous branches, and above 
us lay the balm of the fair June day. The pas- 
sion of grief was here but beyond was the calm 
of mountain and sky and forest, and around our 
quivering hearts there seemed to enfold the 
peace of the Infinite. Something of this may 
have touched Elizabeth’s thought for it was not 
the minor strain I had always heard at such 
times, but the uplift of an old Moravian hymn 
that her voice rang out : 

‘‘ ‘ Lie still in the darkness, 

Sleep safe in the night, 

The Lord is a Watchman, 

The Lamb is a Light. 

Jehovah, He holdeth 
The sea and the land — 

The earth in the hollow 
Of His mighty hand. 

All’s well in the darkness, 

All’s well in the light, 

The Lamb is a Watchman, 

The Lamb is a Light.’ ” 


ALONG THE WAY. 


75 


And looking at the tear-stained face of the 
mother I saw there the gleam of a new expres- 
sion, a breaking of the anguish for her baby’s 
form left alone and unguarded. 

Then the little mound was filled in, and over 
it stones and great logs were rolled, not so much 
to mark the spot as to make it safe against the 
wild animals. When the last office had been 
rendered and we were ready to start, for being 
less encumbered we would soon leave them be- 
hind at best, the father wrung our hands, and 
the mother, with tears streaming down her 
cheeks, threw her arms around Elizabeth. “ I 
cannot tell what you have been to me. I 
thought I should die. My heart seemed turned 
to stone. As long as I remember my baby I 
shall remember you.” 

Looking back as we rode away we saw the 
father and mother standing hand in hand by the 
side of the little grave they were so soon to 
leave far behind. 

Theirs was a grief kindred to that which 
wrung many a heart during those wearisome 
journeys, one of the keenest griefs a mother’s 
heart could know, to lay a little form in a way- 
side grave, a spot that never should she see 
again. 


CHAPTER VIL 


THE PIPE OF PEACE. 

Another event of the journey stands out in 
my memory with vivid clearness. Evening 
was drawing near and we were anxious to make 
a certain point by night. A sudden chill had 
come in the air, which with the darkening of the 
strip of sky, which was all we could see above 
our forest-bordered road, gave promise of a 
coming storm. Where a narrower trail branched 
off Colonel Zane paused, “ Once when I came 
this way some years ago I remember taking a 
road that saved some miles; this I am sure is 
it, though a bit rougher would you mind trying 
it?” 

Elizabeth laughed, “ When I was a child I 
mind playing a game ‘ follow my leader,’ go on 
and we will play it again, Phoebe and I.” 

It was indeed a wilder way. The hills grew 
steeper ; the trees, now in full leaf pressed dark 
and close-ranked to the narrow path, whose 
marking of blazed, or notched, trees we could 
with difficulty distinguish. As the gloom deep- 
ened around us Colonel Zane stopped, “ I’m 
76 


77 


\ 

THE PIPE OF PEACE. 

afraid that your leader cannot lead much far- 
ther, and that we will have to camp out again 
to-night; but I heard the sound of running 
water, there must be a creek not far distant, we 
will follow this hill around and I think come to 
it/^ 

As we cautiously picked our way around the 
steep and wooded base of the high hill the 
light of a camp fire suddenly blazed before us, 
and beyond ranged in a semicircle stood a row 
of rude tents. “ Indian wigwams,” Elizabeth 
murmured, but though I had never before seen 
one I did not need her words to know what they 
were. Nearer the fire, . burning large and 
bright, squatted a circle of dusky forms painted, 
as I could see at the first glance, in the most 
grotesque and hideous manner. Uncle Elam’s 
description of the Indians on that fatal day of 
Braddock’s defeat flashed before me, and with 
the conviction that a similar fate was to be ours 
a numbness of terror held me quiet. 

To retreat unseen was impossible, though our 
horses be brown and our garments alike incon- 
spicuous the circle of firelight was too wide and 
those watchful eyes were already fixed upon 
us. A moment more and a grave-faced Indian, 
evidently from his dignity one of their leading 
men, arose and came forward to Colonel Zane 


78 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


whO' had advanced a few steps to meet him. 
In a few moments he returned to say that the 
Indians were about to have a festal dance and 
had offered him the pipe of peace as token of 
friendship and welcome. Of course he 
added, “ I must accept, for to refuse would 
give them the impression that I was an enemy. 
I am sorry, to leave you, but there seems to 
be nothing to fear, and I will come back as 
soon as may be.” And so he left us alone with 
the forest behind and the savages in front. 

Let us keep on our horses,” I urged as 
Elizabeth made a movement as if to dismount, 
“ They give us at least a chance of escape.” 

“ Very well,” was her reply, “ though Ebene- 
zer understands the Indian nature so well that 
we need not fear he would have left us had he 
seen the least sign of danger.” 

For a little while there was absolute silence, 
then all but a few of the Indians rose and the 
dance began, at first slow, increasing to fast and 
faster. As it went on, the dark forms sharply 
outlined against the firelight leaping, twisting, 
yelling, a cold panic of fear came over me, a 
compound of the lone night, the forest dark- 
ness closing round, our unprotected situation, 
and all the stories of Indian treachery I had 
ever heard, which now returned afresh. And 



“Certainly we’ll smoke the peace-pipe.” — Page 7.9 



THE PIPE OF PEACE. 


79 


such contortions of form, such grimaces of face, 
such a pandemonium of noise I had never 
dreamed possible. 

When this was at its height, the air rent with 
the dreadful sounds, cries and yells that were 
fairly unearthly, and the dark forms of the In- 
dians seemed less men than creatures from some 
lower region, I saw the, same Indian coming 
toward us, this time with a long-stemmed pipe 
in his hand. “ Young white squaw, smoke 
peace pipe,’’ he said in a deep guttural, holding 
it towards me. But I was so badly frightened 
that I could only stare at him, unable to move or 
to utter a word. 

Not so Elizabeth, however. Springing from 
her horse, on the other side of me, she came 
quickly forward. “ Certainly, we will smoke 
the peace pipe,” she said in her clear, ringing 
tone; and with a smile she took it from him and 
putting the ill-smelling object to her lips gave 
a tiny whiff. The Indian looked at her with 
a grunt of satisfaction, “ You nO’ afraid,” he 
said, little squaw,” with a nod at me, “ much 
afraid.” 

“ Why should I be afraid ? ” she asked 
calmly, “ Have we not smoked the peace pipe 
together, are we not friends ? ” And sitting 
by I regarded her with a thrill of admiration, al- 


8o 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


ways so resourceful, so full of courage, so quick, 
so cheery. Though indeed as I recall the scene 
now, that this was my first encounter with the 
savages, and the circumstance of it, I think my 
feeling is not greatly to be wondered at. 

At that moment Colonel Zane came back. 
The dance, he explained, was in honor of an 
old and famous chief, who was a guest of the 
tribe, and who had expressed a wish to see the 
* White Fawns.’ Will you go? ” 

Of course,” answered Elizabeth without 
an instant’s hesitation, ‘‘ Come Phoebe.” And 
what with her example and the pressure of her 
hand I plucked up heart enough to follow. It 
is an especial honor,” she whispered, “ one it 
would never do to think of refusing.” 

As we drew nearer the Indians were still 
dancing. But it had changed and was now, 
so Colonel Zane told us, the dance usually held 
on returning from a victorious battle. One in 
which the young squaws, who sitting outside 
before now joined, and which with its graceful 
and rhythmic motion formed a most pleasing 
contrast to the other. 

A little at one side stood a wigwam some- 
what larger than the rest, before this, leaning 
against a great tree, with eagle feathers in his 


THE PIPE OF PEACE. 


8i 


scalp lock, and a great mantle of otter skins 
wrapped around him against the evening air, 
sat the old chief, still proudly erect for all his 
evidently many years. “ The White Fawns 
are welcome,” he said through the young In- 
dian who stood by his side and acted as in- 
terpreter. “ I am an aged hemlock, the winds 
of a hundred winters have whistled through 
my branches, I am withered and sapless, and 
the generation to which I belong has run 'away 
and left me alone. But it was not always so. 
Sinequaw has won many a battle, and carried 
the scalp-locks of his enemies at his belt. But 
the White Fawns and the Long Knife,” with a 
wave of his hand toward Colonel Zane, “ have 
nothing to fear. For long moons my hand 
was lifted against the pale-faces, whose wig- 
wams are growing thick on our hunting 
grounds; but now I have buried the tomahawk 
and unstrung the bow, and smoke the pipe of 
peace with my white brother.” 

That is well,” Colonel Zane answered as 
he paused, “ love is better between us than 
hate.” 

The old chief drew himself proudly up, “ I 
said not that I loved the pale face, but I have 
learned,” He stopped and smoked for a little 


82 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


in silence. “ Long moons ago, when the French 
made war with his white brother, the English, 
I was one of the warriors who took the war- 
path with the French. More I was one of those 
who lay in ambush on the bank of the Monon- 
gahela when the English war chief came with 
his army from across the great water.” 

Does he mean General Braddock? ” I asked, 
almost surprised at the sound of my own voice. 

The interpreter repeated the question and 
the old man nodded. “ It was told us that he 
and his soldiers had laughed at and scorned the 
red man, but that day we taught them the 
might of the red man’s arm. Ah what a day it 
was,” his faded eye kindling with an exulting 
gleam. “ The leaves on the trees above were 
hardly thicker than the dead on the field be- 
neath. 

“ But not all were numbered with those. 
There was one, tall and straight as a young 
hemlock, he sought no shelter, where the battle 
was thickest he rode in the open, as fair a mark 
as ever gun was pointed at. Yet though I 
took aim, that never before had failed to bring 
down man or deer, though my young men fired 
again and again, though horse after horse fell 
under him, he rode unharmed; and by that I 


THE PIPE OF PEACE. 


83 


knew he was one the Great Spirit loved, 
that his was a charmed life, and that no bullet 
could reach his heart, nor battle-field drink his 
blood.” 

He paused, with his eyes fixed, as if again 
he saw that field of dire disaster, that noble 
young form, intent on duty forgetful of danger, 
“ It was Washington,” whispered Elizabeth. 

He heard the word and turned to us again, 
“ Yes, that was his name. Moons afterwards, 
when our brothers, the French, had been driven 
beyond the lakes, word came to me that the 
young chief was come to our country. With 
that like a shoot of maize in my heart grew the 
wish to look upon his face again, and taking 
the head men of my tribe I traveled many 
miles till we came on him where he was camped, 
at the mouth of the Great Kanawha. I gave 
him the reverence due to one the Great Spirit 
honors, I told him the story I have told to you, 
I smoked the pipe of peace with him, and pon- 
dered in my heart the good words he spoke. 

‘‘ And ‘ SO' when the pale faces made war 
against each other again, and the English sent 
talking birds among my people asking us to 
put on our war shoes and fight with them, I had 
heard that Washington was the great war chief 


84 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


of his people, and I said to my young men, 

‘ Their voices are false. Keep in your wig- 
wams, turn your guns on the panther and the 
deer but lift them not against one the Great 
Spirit protects, and who where the battle is 
thickest rides unharmed.’ So my warriors, my 
young men, kept to the wigwam and the hunt 
when others listened to the talking birds that 
flew from the English. Once again I rode many 
miles, this time that I might see the great chief, 
now a hemlock in its prime, at the head of his 
warriors. In his face I read the sign, that I 
had known since that day on the banks of the 
Monongahela, that he was one whose hand was 
made to hold victory.” 

And victory it holds,” cried Elizabeth im- 
pulsively. 

The old chief drew his otter skin robe closer 
about him, ‘‘ I am old, I have seen many things, 
I have learned much, I know the signs, where 
the Great Spirit sets his seal I strive not. Thus 
it is that I make war no more on my white 
brother, that my word to him is peace. And so 
the White Fawns and the Long Knife may go 
in and out in safety.” 

The young Indian smiled as he interpreted 
the message, but the head of the old man had 
fallen on his breast and he seemed to have al- 


THE PIPE OF PEACE. 


35 


ready forgotten us. The dark forms were still 
circling and marching, the young men and In- 
dian girls now in single file, to the measure of 
a rhythmical chanting song which rose in clear 
musical cadence on the silent night. 

The squaws old and young looked at us curi- 
ously but uttered no word ; but the Indian who 
had offered the peace pipe was more communi- 
cative, “ Heap wise,” nodding toward the old 
chief, “ speak good word, listen to him all same 
children father,” and the older Indians gave 
an “ ugh,” of assent. 

There were some further civilities, with a 
gift of tobacco by Colonel Zane, then an Indian 
bearing a torch as a guide was sent with us 
to show the way, and in little more than an hour 
we were safe under the sheltering roof of the 
‘‘Wayside Arms.” 

But as we rode along Elizabeth had been 
softly singing: 

“ ‘ We have a bold Commander, 

Who fears not sword or gun, 

The second Alexander, 

His name is Washington. 

His men are all collected 
And ready for the fray, 

To fight they are directed 
For North America. 


86 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


“ ‘ A health to our brave footmen, 
Who handle sword and gun, 
To Green and Gates and Putnam 
And conquering Washington; 
Their names be writ in letters 
Which never will decay, 
While sun and moon do glitter 
On North America.’ ” 


CHAPTER VIIL 


AT PITTSBURG. 

As we drew near to Pittsburg, that point of 
civilization in the new west toward which we 
were journeying, our way lay past the ill- 
fated scene of General Braddock’s defeat, now 
known as Braddock’s Field.” As by a com- 
mon impulse we stopped our horses and with 
a strange interest I gazed at the spot of which 
I had heard so much but which once I had 
never thought to see. Over this glade now so 
quiet that we could hear the whisper of the 
leaves and the murmuring current of the Mo- 
nongahela beside, those wild war cries had 
sounded that other summer day, and from be- 
hind these trees, from whose branches birds 
were singing, the unseen foe had fired their 
murderous volleys. Over grass like this now 
growing the British troops had marched blindly 
and bravely to their fate, and green blade and 
leaf had been crimsoned with the dew of their 
heart’s blood. Somewhere here Uncle Elam 
had held a place in the struggle. From behind 
the shelter of some one of these tree trunks the 
87 


88 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


old Indian chief had taken his ineffective aim 
at the young Virginia Major, the man truly 
preserved of God for the great task which 
awaited him. 

Here and there among the grass I caught a 
gleam of white, which without being told I 
knew to be the still unburied bones of those 
who fell that day. Colonel Zane cut me a bul- 
let from out the side of a tree, where I was 
glad to think it had found harmless lodgment, 
and almost in silence we rode on. For here we 
had touched the border of one of life’s tragedies, 
and its lingering shadow was resting on us. 

The afternoon was waning when we came in 
sight of the cluster of houses, mostly log, under 
the walls of Fort Pitt, which at that time com- 
prised the little town of Pittsburg. I looked 
at it almost in dismay, and exclaimed, Why, 
I had thought to see a larger place.” 

“ It has a population of nearly a thousand,” 
answered Colonel Zane, “ And small though it 
be it is the most important town in Western 
Pennsylvania, and also one around which have 
already gathered many historic associations. 
On the north side, as you see, comes down the 
Alleghany, on the south the Monongahela 
Rivers, which here united sweep onward in the 
broad Ohio. ’Tis not strange that when Wash- 


AT PITTSBURG. 


89 


ington, then hardly more than a youth, first saw 
the location he realized at once its importance. 
Under his direction the first fort here was built. 
Over this point, as the key to the whole region, 
was one of the fiercest struggles of the French 
and English. On the point yonder you will 
see the remains of old Fort Duquesne, one of 
the long chain of forts the French had stretched 
from the St. Lawrence to the Mississippi. It 
was on an expedition to take it that General 
Braddock met defeat and death; and it was 
finally evacuated and blown up to prevent its 
falling into English hands, during the later 
campaign under General Forbes.’’ 

“ I expect there was nothing here when 
Uncle Elam saw it then.” 

‘‘ Unless it be a trading post or two.” 

‘‘ What a hill that is back of the town,” said 
Elizabeth. 

“ Yes, that is ^ Grant’s Hill,’ on whose sum- 
mit a detachment of Highlanders were sur- 
prised and massacred by the French and In- 
dians, and there you will also find the bones 
of the killed, and arrow-heads and tomahawks 
used in the battle. Fort Pitt, named in honor 
of the great English statesman, is built just 
above the site of the old fort. And the work 
was so well done that a letter written while it 


90 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


was just built, in 1759, said ' that the army had 
been engaged in erecting a most formidable 
fortification, such a one as will to latest poster- 
ity secure the British empire in Ohio.” 

Elizabeth laughed, “ As successors of the 
British we will say the American empire now, 
though I certainly hope the prophecy will still 
hold good. But Fort Pitt has played a small 
part in the War, has it not?” 

“ In one sense yes. It has been too remote 
from the seat of active war. On the other 
hand, though with but a small garrison of 
a few hundred, it has served to guard the set- 
tlements of the frontier, and also as a central 
military post from which expeditions could be 
sent out against the Indians and British, and 
SO' to hold for the Colonies the great region 
northwest of the Ohio. The British, especially 
those at Detroit, have realized the value of this, 
and have done their best by fair means and foul 
to save it for England, but thanks to the un- 
aided valor of the handful of border frontiers- 
men they have failed.” I knew he was speaking 
to himself more than to us, “ And though in the 
excitement of these years* they of the East have 
given us scant thought or heed, the day is com- 
ing when they will learn that beyond the moun- 
tains the real riches of our country lie.” 


AT PITTSBURG. 


91 ' 

Do yoii really think so ? ” I could not help 
asking, thinking of the rough wild ways over 
which we had come. 

“ I would stake my life on that. As for this 
town, it was only laid out in 1764, at the end of 
the French and Indian war, by Colonel Camp- 
bell, in four squares, as you will see, just out- 
side the walls of the fort, and it was he also 
who gave the name, Pittsburg. I know to those 
who come from our great cities, as Boston and 
Philadelphia, it seems small and mean, as it 
does to you, and it is held by some that it will 
never be very considerable, the which I greatly 
doubt. For ’tis and will be the central point 
of emigration to the west, and from it already 
travelers go down the river to the settlements 
in Kentucky, to the falls of the Ohio, and even 
beyond; for the waterways have been and will 
be the ways of travel and of commerce. 

So talking we entered the town; which com- 
prised two or three brick redoubts just outside 
the fort, now converted into dwelling houses, 
and the straggling knot of log houses, some 
hewed but more in the natural state. At one 
of these redoubts, now kept as an inn by an 
old Frenchman, we halted. A group of men 
were talking earnestly in the doorway, as at 
the sound of our horses’ feet they turned to- 


92 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


wards us I sprang from my saddle for the face 
of one was that of my dear father. “ I have 
been here for some days awaiting your com- 
ing,” he explained. 

But even in that first moment, when I clung 
to him in a very passion of gladness, so that 
the toil of the way seemed as nothing, I noticed 
a shadow on his face as of some inward 
disquiet. “ Are you quite well. Daddy,” I 
asked. 

“ Quite well.” 

‘‘ And glad to see me? ” 

'' More glad than I can say.” 

But even while he so spoke the cloud did not 
lift, and I saw Colonel Zane and a tall man in 
military dress step one side, and noted that 
while listening his face grew grave. “ Some- 
thing has gone amiss,” said Elizabeth when 
the little old Frenchman with a bow and 
smile had shown us to our chamber, “ But I 
shall soon know what it is,” and she tapped her 
slim foot impatiently on the floor. 

“ Yes, I saw it in my father’s face. Do you 
think it concerns your people ? ” 

“ Hardly. It must have been the colonel 
commanding Fort Pitt that Ebenezer was talk- 
ing with and he also looked grave. Doubtless 
it is some fresh trouble with the Indians, and 


AT PITTSBURG. 


93 


my brother commands the militia in his depart- 
ment.’’ 

That evening as my father and Colonel Zane 
came into the lower room where we were sit- 
ting Elizabeth put the direct question, What’s 
the matter; what has happened? ” 

“ Why do you think anything has ? ” Colonel 
Zane answered evasively. 

“We know it from your looks. You may as 
well tell us at once, or we shall perhaps imagine 
worse than it is.” 

“ Well Betty, I had not meant to tell you the 
first moment, but you may be right that you 
had best know the truth at once. You know 
of the expedition I told you was fitting out 
against the Indians of the Sandusky region 
when I left ? And the sad news I find awaiting 
me is that this has met with a most unfortunate 
defeat, one that has cost the lives of many 
brave men.” 

“ And what of brother Jonathan ? ” asked 
Elizabeth, “ Did you not tell me he also was 
going?” 

“ Jonathan they tell me is safe, and that it 
was in large part through his service as guide 
that the little army was able to accomplish its 
retreat. In fact had they kept together most 
would have escaped. It was the number 


94 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


who broke off into small parties who were har- 
ried by the Indians, and either killed or met 
the same fate as their commander, Colonel 
Crawford/’ 

What was that?” 

He was taken prisoner.” 

I fancied that Elizabeth’s cheek paled a little, 
but my father was speaking, I felt afraid 
when they went out. Of course their number, 
nearly five hundred, would seem to give prom- 
ise of success; but on the other hand they had 
no military discipline whatever, except that 
one company of militia from Ten Mile.” 

Colonel Zane sighed, “To treat the Indians 
with fairness and firmness has ever been my 
aim, and no one can deplore this state of war- 
fare more than I do.” 

“ And a victory for the Indians means added 
danger for the settlement,” said Elizabeth 
steadily. 

“ Yes, it is a fact we must face and be pre- 
pared for.” 

A brief silence followed, “ O Phoebe,” it was 
my father who spoke, “when in the winter I 
wrote for you to join me, even when Colonel 
Zane left, I had no thought of this fresh alarm. 
If I had foreseen it I would have left you in 
the snug, safe nest and never sent for you. 


A'l F ITT ^ BURG. 


95 


Nor will I ask you now to stay. An express 
sets out for Philadelphia in a few days and you 
can go back with it; indeed it seems best to 
me that you should do so.” 

“ And you also, Betty,” said Colonel Zane, 
“ We who are used to the life and perils of the 
frontier can face its alarms; but for young girls 
who have known security and safety it is far 
different.” 

I had been taught never to interrupt those 
older than myself, but hardly could I wait till 
he had ended, “ Father,” it may be that my 
voice shook a little, but withal I think it was 
firm, “ wherever you are, whatever the danger, 
there, an you let me, I will be beside you.” 

“ And I,” cried Elizabeth, and there was no 
tremor, but a clear ring in her voice, “ can 
meet and share what my brothers have faced for 
years; even if you bid me go I shall stay. Fie 
on you, Ebenezer,” with a little laugh, “ to 
think that one in whose veins flows the blood 
of a Zane, even though she be but a girl, would 
be afraid. 

They might say what they chose but I 
know very well that all the time they wanted 
us to stay,” said Elizabeth gaily, as later we 
were in our own room making ready for bed. 

The Indians may get this,” and she shook 


96 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

down her wealth of hair, “ but they won’t find 
it an easy prize.” 

From the window where I was standing I 
could see the high walls of the fort so near us, 
where a sentry was pacing his beat, and the 
flagstaff with halyards hanging, from which the 
flag had floated through the day, the beautiful 
flag with its red and white stripes and thirteen 
stars that my father had helped to win. Turn- 
ing my head there was the swift-flowing river, 
and still beyond that, dark against the dusk of 
the night, the black line of the forest, the forest 
sweeping away and away, well nigh measure- 
less: the forests under whose shadow another 
fierce struggle was going on, this time between 
twO' races, the white and the red, and two forces, 
civilization and savagery. A cruel struggle, 
marked my blood and fire. 

‘‘ Yes,” I answered slowly, I think my fa- 
ther would rather I would stay, and I would 
not leave him alone for anything — not for any- 
thing, you understand. But, O Elizabeth, with 
the thought of danger my spirit does not rise 
like yours, I cannot help it, I am afraid,” and 
leaning against her shoulder the tears that I 
could no longer keep back came fast. 

And Elizabeth gathered me in her arms and 
petted me as a mother might a child. “ Take 


AT PITTSBURG. 


97 


courage, dear, ’’ she murmured, “ you are tired 
with the long journey that you have borne so 
bravely. Things will seem brighter in the 
morning, the days will not be all dark. And 
whatever comes we are still within God’s care.” 

With that there came to me the remembrance 
of the words she had sung at the baby’s grave, 
“ Sing again the ' All’s well,’ ” I urged. 

And as she sang, 

“ ‘ Lie still in the darkness. 

Sleep safe in the night, 

The Lord is a Watchman, 

The Lamb is a Light.’ ” 

a calm seemed to come over me. I felt ashamed 
of my little faith, and in quietness I fell 
asleep. 


CHAPTER IX. 


NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 

From Pittsburg we found that we were to 
make the rest of our journey by river and on a 
raft, together with our sundry effects which 
were already awaiting us. So it was that we 
spent another day at the hostelry of the little 
old Frenchman, that everything might be made 
ready for our departure, and needful supplies 
purchased, and also that Colonel Zane might 
take counsel with Colonel Broadhead, of Fort 
Pitt, concerning the measures to be taken for 
the protection of the settlements. 

During this time Elizabeth and I went about 
the town which to my eyes, used to the well- 
built neatness of an old community, I must con- 
fess still seemed but a poor little place; with 
streets that even a shower of the night before 
had made sadly muddy. Greatly lacking I 
knew it to be, for my father had told me that 
with four lawyers and two doctors it had 
neither minister nor church. At the same time 
even my inexperienced eyes could see that it was 
98 


NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 


99 


a trading center of no little importance. On its 
streets were to be seen trappers with packages 
of furs; women on horseback with deep slat 
sunbonnets, and parcels hung at their saddle- 
bows; woodsmen with their rifles across their 
arms; soldiers in military dress, a squaw or 
two with baskets of wild strawberries, and now 
and then one whose attire and air of curiosity 
betokened a traveler from the further South or 
East. 

“ I had been told that this was a country 
where there was no money.’’ I said to Eliza- 
beth, “ How then do these people pay for what 
they buy ? ” 

“ Oh,” she answered, you have come into 
the world of barter, a world where skins, wheat, 
tallow, beeswax, maple sugar, pass for coin 
current,” and stepping inside the dingy trad- 
ing-posts, one could hardly call them stores, I 
quickly saw that she was right. 

As we drew near again to the old redoubt I 
saw coming up from the river landing, where 
our raft was moored with other river craft, a 
little knot of men, two of whom were my father 
and Colonel Zane, who when they saw us 
beckoned that we should wait. 

Betty, and Phoebe,” said Colonel Zane as 
they came up, “ we have been so fortunate as to 


L.ofC. 


lOO 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


meet with some of our neighbors who will bear 
us company to-morrow, it gives me pleasure 
that you should know them. These are John 
Lyon and Lewis Wetzel, whom you knew years 
ago, Betty, to whom the settlements on the 
Ohio already owe much; and Mr. Clark, who 
has cast in his fortune with us at Wheeling.” 

It is not strange that my gaze was curious, 
for were not these of the people among whom 
my future was to be? Nor will I deny, my 
years being the excuse, that my interest was 
possibly the greater from the fact that they 
were all young men. The one who first caught 
and longest held my notice, as I think he would 
that of any one who saw him for the first time, 
was John Lyon. Tall, straight as a fir tree, a 
typical Anglo-Saxon, with handsome regular 
features, brown hair that half-waved to his 
shoulders, eyes of blue, steady and fearless, a 
resolute mouth that yet bent readily to a smile, 
and a calm unconscious strength of bearing, 
that went well with the supple ease of every step 
and motion. 

His dress was one common to the frontiers- 
men of that time. Moccasins of deer-skin tied 
at the ankle, deer-skin leggins that came well 
up above the knee, fringed adown the outer 
seam ; and over these, the most distinctive fea- 


NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 


lOI 


ture of all, the hunting-shirt. This was a 
loose, frock-like garment, reaching half way 
down the thighs, with large sleeves, open be- 
fore, and so wide that it lapped well across 
when belted. Often they were made of tanned 
deer-skin, but the one John Lyon wore that 
day was of heavy linen, a dull blue, with a 
fringe of scarlet around the edge, down the 
outside seam of the sleeves, and about the wide 
and cape-like collar. 

The wide bosom of the hunting-shirt as I 
learned later was not alone for ornament, but 
also served the purpose of a wallet. Inside it 
the woodsman carried bread, cakes, jerked veni- 
son, tow for wiping the barrel of his rifle, and 
whatever was needful for him as hunter or 
warrior. Fastening the hunting-frock about 
the waist was the belt, always tied behind usu- 
ally fringed to match the garment. This also 
served a purpose, in cold weather the mittens, 
and sometimes the bullet bag hung from it; in 
front, at the right side was suspended the light 
ax, or tomahawk-like hatchet, an essential to 
the pioneer, and on the left side hung the wide- 
bladed knife in its heavy leather sheath, that 
had caused the Indians to bestow on the whites 
the name of “ long knives.’’ But convenience 
was not its sole recommendation, for I am still 


T02 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


of the opinion that no garment ever better set 
off a fine figure; and truly no manly form 
ever displayed the hunting-frock to better ad- 
vantage than that of John Lyon. 

Lewis Wetzel was younger, a lad of about 
eighteen, whose face and accent bore token of 
his German lineage. More than this his face 
bore the impress of daring, the almost reckless 
daring,^ which boy though he was had already 
won him the reputation, which he long held, as 
one of the most noted Indian scouts and fight- 
ers of the upper Ohio. His dress was more 
careless than that of his companion, his hunt- 
ing shirt was of linsey, and both fringe and gar- 
ment showed marks of wear. But his rifle had 
the brightness of constant polish, and his hand 
fitted to it as though they were seldom long 
apart. 

These two were types of men to whom I had 
not yet become accustomed, and perhaps be- 
cause of that they appealed to me the more. As 
with Colonel Zane, I felt that in them the free- 
dom of the woods had bred a largeness, and ab- 
sence of constraint; it was in the spring of their 
step, the quickness of their glance, the firmness, 
that could easily become sternness. 

The third of this trio of young men was un- 
like the others, and though he too wore mocca- 


NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 


103 


sins and leggins it was easy to see that he had 
but lately come from a region where life was 
more calmly ordered. His leggins but met his 
nankeen small-clothes, his coat and waistcoat 
were of cinnamon brown, at his neck and wrists 
were ruffles of white linen; on his head he wore 
not the coon skin cap of Wetzel, nor the rye- 
straw hat of Lyon, set well back as if to give 
a freer outlook, but a three-cornered beaver 
looped with a button. Unlike the others he car- 
ried no rifle, but a brace of pistols at his belt, 
and his hands as I saw at the first glance were 
small, soft, and white. 

I could note all this in that I was always shy 
with strangers, and now I walked mutely along 
the while Elizabeth was laughing and jesting 
with each in turn, and their eyes were on her 
with the admiration her beauty could but in- 
spire. 

“ And so they are going down on the raft 
with us,’’ I said when we were by ourselves. 

“ S’o they are, most demure of Phoebe-birds, 
who hasn’t ventured a twitter. And is it not 
‘ braw,’ as the Scotch would say, that we are 
to have the enlivening company of three young 
men, as well as their incidental protection 
should the Indians see fit to open fire on us? 
Why don’t you say, O most perverse of 


104 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


Phoebes, that you count it a most pleasant hap- 
pening?” 

And without waiting for an answer she 
walked across the floor singing, 

“ ‘ It was a lover, and his lass, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 

That o’er the green corn-field did pass. 

In the springtime, the only pretty ring time, 
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; 

Sweet lovers love the spring.’ 

That is from Master Will Shakspere, and 
like you it? ” 

I have heard songs that I liked better,” I 
answered stoutly, ‘‘ If Master Shakspere did 
write it I think it sounds silly.” 

She gave a merry laugh. There spoke my 
little Puritan. But it is a sweet song, I think 
I shall sing it to doughty John Lyon, or Mr. 
Clark, gentleman, and ask their opinion.” 

“ Elizabeth Zane ! ” I exclaimed in protest. 
And for answer she laughed again. 

And here I have not worn a face-mask a 
single day. Do I not look like a sad fright? ” 

“ You look beautiful, as you always do,” I 
answered though I was half-vexed with her 
mood, and I had already learned that these were 
quickly changeful. 

She pinched my cheek. You are, I fear 


NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 


105 

me, a most shameless flatterer, Phoebe-bird. 
But an we are to have the company of gentle- 
men we must make ourselves as fine as possible, 
and furbish up at least with a ribbon or so. We 
may lead a gay life after all in Wheeling, who 
knows ? ’’ 

“ Gay, with Indian alarms ! ” I cried. 

“ Oh, I assure you my dear, alarms are not 
every day, and frontier life is not all terrible. 
A puncheon floor may not be of the smoothest, 
but many a foot has danced a measure on one.” 

And who knows what moment one might 
find the roof fired over their head? Think of 
all we have heard, of what has just happened.” 

“ I know,” she was trying the effect of a 
ribbon at her throat, “ but one must take their 
chance. As I told you I am trusting to wear 
my hair on my head rather than at the belt of 
a brave.” 

And she gave me a careless, mocking look, 
which made me wonder if after all that had 
been said Elizabeth quite realized how serious 
was the situation? 


CHAPTER X. 


THE RIVER WAY. 

The next morning saw us afloat on the 
broad and beautiful Ohio, and I will confess to 
a novel sensation as our craft swung out and 
was caught by the strong current of the river. 
At the landing place a goodly number of boats 
were fastened, and a party of men with one or 
two women had embarked in one shortly before 
us. “ This is the water-road, nature’s own 
highway,” remarked my father, “ On it people 
have their choice of the keel-boat, the Kentucky 
flat-boat, the Indian canoe, the pirogue, and 
the raft, which last serves well for the distance 
we have to go.” 

At first it seemed strange to be so near the 
surface of the water, though the raft, bound 
together as it was with strong iron chains, gave 
a feeling of security. Our horses had been sent 
overland with some trappers, so our baggage 
and effects were piled in the center of the raft, 
near these a rude shelter had been built, not 
only as a retreat from the sun but as a protec- 
106 


THE RIVER WAY. 


107 


tion in case of attack by the Indians. For as 
I soon learned there were two dangers in river 
voyaging; one that the boat would be fired into 
by Indians on the bank; the other that it would 
become entangled in the branches of the trees 
that bordered the river. And because of this 
latter the cabins were all built low, that they 
might safely pass under the limbs of the over- 
hanging sycamores and beeches: in addition 
they were often lined with blankets and beds, 
as a further security against Indian bullets. 

When I lay safe in my bed at Aunt Alsara's 
the thought of the Indians had made me tremble 
with fear. But now as I sat and looked at the 
green shore on either side, though I knew that 
an unseen enemy might lurk behind any tree 
yet what with the smiling June day, the sun- 
shine-flooded earth, the peace and beauty of the 
sweeping river, I could not feel my spirit 
weighted with the sense of any danger. 

It may have been in part the gladness of the 
day, just touched and cooled with a breath of 
river breeze, but we were all in a mood of re- 
laxation. And as for me after the glooms and 
shadows of the wilderness ways the breath of 
the open sky, the expanse of the sunlit water 
was a delight and after the long days of weari- 
some riding it was so restful to be sitting here 


io8 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

at ease, knowing that the journey was so nearly 
ended. 

My father shared this feeling I knew, for I 
heard him softly humming to himself, as was 
his way at such times, as he stood pole in hand. 
For going as we were with the current almost 
the only labor was to guide the raft with long 
poles, to keep it from striking a snag, or from 
being carried by the current too far inshore. 

Elizabeth and I sat on a small chest partly 
under the shelter, and the men, except those at 
the poles, sat about in careless attitudes, though 
I noticed that their eyes kept watchfully on the 
shore, and that their rifles were never far from 
their hands. Presently Colonel Zane turned to 
Wetzel, “ This is a better raft, Lewis, than the 
one you made to cross the river the time you 
escaped from the Indians.” 

“ Yes, somewhat.” 

I looked at him with sudden interest, a man 
in the flesh who had been in the hands of the 
Indians and escaped. What, were you a 
captive ? ” asked Elizabeth, putting into words 
what I had lacked courage to speak. 

“ The girls would like to hear the story, tell 
them about it,’^ urged Colonel Zane. 

‘‘ There ain’t nothing to tell,” he demurred. 


THE RIVER WAY. 


109 

“ The Injuns caught my brother and I and we 
got away from them, that’s all.” 

“ But how did they catch you; and how did 
you get away ? ” persisted Elizabeth, “ I see 
by Phoebe’s looks that she’s just dying to 
know.” 

“ Why,” he begun half reluctantly, “ it was 
when I was about fourteen, my younger 
brother, Jake, an’ I had gone out to shoot squir- 
rels when some Injuns saw us. The woods 
there were so open they couldn’t well come 
near without bein’ seen, so as I was the biggest, 
an’ as they looked at it apt to run the fastest an’ 
so get away, they made up that they’d shoot 
me, an’ -they did. The ball didn’t kill me but 
it took away a piece of this bone,” and he laid 
his hand on his breast, ‘‘ That sort o’ done me 
out, so I was easy overtook, and little Jake and 
I made prisoners. 

With that the red skins started back to- 
wards their own towns. When we’d gone seme 
twenty miles beyond the river we camped for 
the second night at the Big Lick, on McMahon’s 
creek. After cooking an’ eating supper the In- 
juns for some reason, maybe because we’d made 
no fuss or trouble, laid down without fastening 
us, as they had the night before, an’ pretty soon 


no 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


were asleep. But you may depend on it I wasn’t 
asleep, an’ after making some little motions to 
see how sound they really were, I whispered to 
Jake that he must get up an’ go home with me. 
At first, bein’ a little fellow, he held back an’ 
was afraid to try ; but I told him he must, an’ to 
come on, for you see the further we went the 
harder it was goin’ to be to get back. So we 
softly got up an’ started off; we’d only gone 
a little way mebby a hundred yards from the 
camp, when I told him to stop, and I went 
back to the camp an’ brought us each a pair of 
moccasins, I knew we’d need ’em. Then I be- 
gan to think about my gun, ’twas father’s gun, 
an’ I knew he wouldn’t want to lose*it, so I 
went back again an’ got that. Then we started 
toward home, for ’twas a bright moonliglit 
night, an’ , we could see the trail plain we’d 
made in coming. 

We hadn’t gone very far when I heard the 
Injuns after us. As soon as I knew by their 
voices they was getting near I led Jakey one 
side, and we squatted down under the bushes 
till they’d gone by, then we went on again, fol- 
lowing after the Injuns. But as they didn’t 
overtake us as soon as they expected they 
turned around an’ started back. I was lookin’ 


THE RIVER WAY 


III 


for that, and watchin’ out for every noise, or 
sign of ’em before us, so as soon as we heard 
’em, why we hid in the bush, an’ they passed 
us again. Then two of the Injuns came after 
us on horseback, but we worked the same trick 
on them an’ they missed us. We trudged along 
as fast as we could, and on the next day came 
out on the river opposite Wheeling. Even then 
I didn’t dare to make a noise and halloo for a 
boat to come after us, so I set about it as quick 
and still as I could, and with little Jake’s help 
got together a raft that we could get across the 
river on.” 

“ I haven’t forgotten how surprised I was 
when they came trudging up the hill,” re- 
marked Colonel Zane, “ pretty worn out little 
chaps they were too.” 

“ I think you were a plucky boy,” was Eliza- 
beth’s comment. 

Well I felt sort o’ good when I’d got home, 
up Wheeling Creek, the more so that I’d 
brought the gun back safe. I’m a little flat 
in the breast for that shot, and he laid his 
hand again on the bosom of his hunting-frock, 
‘‘ but I guess I’m even v/ith the Injuns for it,” 
and he smiled amiably. 

“ I guess you are,” said John Lyon drily, 


II2 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


You may not know it but this youngster has 
killed more Indians than most the men of twice 
his age on the river.’’ 

Looking at Lewis Wetzel I saw a fierce 
brightness kindle in his eyes. “ I’ll kill more 
before I’m done with them,” he cried with sud- 
den vehemence, “ I hate a redskin, an’ they 
hate me, but I’ll give ’em reason to hate me 
worse than they do now.” 

“ Best be careful, Lewis,” advised Colonel 
Zane, ‘‘ if the Indians get you they’ll kill you, 
and it won’t be an easy killing either.” 

“ They’ll have to get me first,” with a sig- 
nificant pat of his rifle. 

The larger rafts were often arranged with a 
place for fire and cooking, but at noon we ate 
the cold food we had brought with us, and as 
evening drew near the raft was run to shore 
and my father went up to a log cabin just above 
the bank, and soon returned with word that its 
hospitality was at our service. ‘‘No need to 
have gone an’ asked,” observed Wetzel with 
an accent of scorn, “ there’s nobody in this neck 
o’ the woods so ornary mean that they won’t 
give a stranger a bite to eat an’ a shake-down.” 

When we reached the house we found that 
preparations were being made for our enter- 
tainment. A griddle had been swung over the 


THE RIVER WAY. 


113 

coals in the wide fire-place, and a kindly-faced 
woman was busy greasing this with a bit of 
pork, which was suspended by a string to her 
apron, where -it hung by her side till wanted for 
the next griddle full. From a large crock 
standing in the corner the batter was dipped 
onto it, and a spider of pork was also cooking 
on the coals. While this was going forward, 
with the aid of the husband a couple of barrels 
were brought out, a door taken from its hinges 
and laid on these, and a clean sheet did duty as 
a table-cloth. When a big pile of cakes had been 
baked, and the pork fried, the cordial invitation 
was given, “ Stand by and take a bite.” And 
“ stand by ” it truly was for some of us, for the 
guests outnumbered the sections of logs which 
served the family in place of chairs. When we 
were gathered at the table the large hunting 
knives were taken from the pouches and used 
to cut the meat into mouthfuls, and sharpened 
sticks did duty as forks. We had contributed 
the tea but the next question had been what to 
pour it in, finally some sort of a dish was found 
for every one except the hostess, who calmly 
drank hers from the tea-kettle lid. Looking 
around I could hardly keep back a smile as I 
thought what if Aunt Alsara was there. But 
for all that it was a most enjoyable meal, the 


I 1 14 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

welcome had been hearty, the food was good 
and abundant, the company were in the best of 
spirits, and despite its lacks seldom ever have I 
eaten a meal that tasted better. 

Theirs was the story I afterward heard so 
often : they had come across the mountains 
with only what could be brought on horseback, 
had built the cabin and made the clearing and 
endured toil and hardship, all for the brighter 
day to come, and now only asked safety from 
the Indians to make that possible. When bed- 
time came the men went back to the raft, and 
Elizabeth and I were taken up a ladder to a 
loft where we shared with the little girl of the 
family a bed filled with leaves laid on the loose 
floor. 

With morning we were again afloat, follow- 
ing with easy motion the windings of the noble 
river, between the grandly wooded hills which 
rolled up and away on either side. Elizabeth 
was in high spirits, she had added a fresh rib- 
bon to her hat and one to her hair, and was 
proving herself a bit of a coquette, dispensing 
her smiles on the three young men who had all, 
it was plain, come under the spell of her charm. 
Nor did I wonder at this for I had yielded 
to that same beauty and brightness long ago, 
but of the three that she would really favor 


THE RIVER WAY. 


115 

John Lyon there could be no question in my 
mind. He was so handsome so noble so manly, 
a Saul among his fellows, and being at the age 
of romance I was weaving one about those two, 
while I sat watching the shadows of the great 
sycamores in the water as we glided gently by 
them, when my father touched my arm, “ We 
are almost at our journey’s end Phoebe. Look 
ahead and you will see Wheeling.” 


CHAPTER XL 


THE journey's END. 

Following the motion of his hand, what 
first caught my eye was a beautiful island mid- 
way the river: then, standing in open ground 
on the high bank above the river, was an in- 
closure of high palisades, with a blockhouse at 
each of the four corners, which I knew to be 
Fort Henry. Beyond at no great distance, rose 
a great hill, and between the foot of this and the 
fort, in a stump-dotted clearing, stood the 
straggling group of log cabins that made up 
the settlement of Wheeling. 

In that first moment I saw the beauty of the 
situation, over which the afternoon sun lay 
soft and bright ; from some of the wide-throated 
chimneys light curls of smoke were rising, 
around spread fields of grass and grain. There 
was a peaceful air to the little settlement, even 
to the weather-gray old fort with its promise of 
safety, and as my gaze went over it all, island 
and hills and winding river, I looked up at my 
father, “ It is indeed as you told me a pleasant 
spot." 

ii6 


THE JOURNEY’S END. 


117 

With that a something of relief crossed his 
face, by which I guessed for the first time that 
he had felt an anxiety how it would seem to me. 

“ I thought it so, truly, I am glad indeed if 
you think likewise.’’ 

But there was time for few words, all hands 
were busy at the poles, and the raft was rapidly 
being worked inshore. Some one on board 
gave a shout, and a stir among the houses told 
that it had been heard and we were recognized, 
and quickly with an ^i\wering shout a half 
dozen men ran hurryinJp^’^vn to the river side 
landing. One of the fb&nost of these while 
yet a wide strip of water lay between sprang 
lightly on the raft and caught Elizabeth in an 
almost bear-like hug. That it was one of her 
brothers I knew from his resemblance to 
Colonel Zane, who gave a grip to his shoulder, 
“ Quite a good jump, Jonathan.” 

‘‘ Yes,” grinned Lewis Wetzel, “ he keeps his 
muscles limber runnin’ away from the In- 
juns.” 

With that word the light went out of Jona- 
than Zane’s face, his arms fell to his side, for 
the moment I think he forgot that Elizabeth 
was there, “ the Indians, the devils you mean. 
Word has just come in how they served Colonel 
Crawford.” 


1 18 BRA VE HEART ELIZABETH. 

“ And how was that ? ” an ominous calmness 
seemed to underlie Colonel Zane’s words. 

“ They put him to the torture, and burned 
him at the stake.” 

For a moment there was silence, I know not 
how the others felt, for myself I grew faint 
with a sick quivering horror, through which I 
heard the comment, “ I was afraid how it would 
be.” 

“ Yes,” continued Jonathan Zane, “ the in- 
carnate fiends, an’ worse than they, Simon 
Girty stood by and sa^ it done.” 

With that Colonef?ane’s face grew stern and 
dark, the veins on his forehead swelled, his dark 
eyes blazed with passion, and lifting his 
clenched fist he shook it in the air, “ Simon 
Girty, the renegade, may he be damned.” 
And from his lips it was not profanity but 
anathema. 

By this time we had touched the bank and 
the others were crowding round. Colonel Zane 
looked at me and as regaining his composure 
with a struggle he said, “ Here, this is a poor 
greeting for Betty and Phoebe Burrell, who 
are not used to Indian atrocities, we will dis- 
cuss them later, and the girls, I reckon, would 
like to see the inside of a house, so come with 
me.” 


THE JOURNEY’S END. 


119 

We had taken but a few steps when a group 
of four or five children, the oldest a girl of 
twelve, half leading, half dragging a tot of 
two, came running towards us, laughing and 
calling, “ Father’s come, Here’s Father.” At 
the sight of them the sternness melted from his 
face, he was no longer the avenger of blood 
but the tender father; but as he went on with 
the little chap perched on his shoulder, a boy 
of four clinging to his hand, and the four 
little girls pressing as near him as might be, 
I felt that at the same time I had caught a 
glimpse of the fiery and impulsive depths that 
lay beneath the kindly exterior, and I thought 
I now understood something what the wrath 
of these men of the frontier was when aroused. 

We went by -Fort Henry, through whose 
open gate I caught a glimpse of a grass grown 
interior, and on up a little hill, to where on 
its ridge, some sixty yards from the fort, stood 
a large blockhouse of hewed logs, with heavy 
puncheon blinds for the windows, the walls 
pierced with loopholes for musketry. “ Is this 
another fort ? ” I asked. 

‘‘ No, and yes. When the Indians burned 
all our cabins five years ago, I made up my 
mind that I’d have something I could defend 
in case of another attack; and I think,” run- 


120 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


ning his eye over its massive strength, “ that 
I have.” 

A smiling woman with a baby in her arms 
stood waiting us at the door, and when I 
heard the sound of her voice, and felt the warm 
clasp of her hand I seemed no longer a stranger 
in a strange place, but as one who had indeed 
found both a welcome and a friend. And I 
think all shared that feeling who came within 
the brisk and hearty atmosphere of Mrs. 
Colonel Zane. 

Hovering on the edge of the group as we 
stood at the door was an old negro. Elizabeth 
saw him in the midst of the greeting and 
held out her hands, “ Why if here isn’t Daddy 
Sam? So the Indians haven’t got your scalp 
yet?” 

The old fellow grinned delightedly, “ Not 
yit. Miss Betty, ’spect de redskins ruther hab 
har dan wool.” 

“ And how’s Aunt Kate ? ” 

“ Mighty pert. She’s in de kitchen dis min- 
ute, blowin’ up de fire fo’ yo suppa.” 

As we went in I could but glance curiously 
around. The room we had entered was large, 
with signs of the frontier on every side. Over 
the mantel, above the wide stone fire-place, sus- 
pended from hooks hung powder-horns, 


THE JOURNEY’S END. 


I2I 


swords, pistols, rifles, a small arsenal; tawny 
skins lay here and there on the bare floor, over 
a couch at one side was spread the large black 
skin of a bear; while a pair of wide-spreading 
deer’s horns hung over the wall clock whose 
pendulum swung against the smoothly hewed 
logs of the wall. By the hearth stood the 
cradle, and beside it the familiar little spin- 
ning wheel, while across one end of the room 
stretched a long table, and a bed occupied one 
corner, hung with curtains of blue and- white 
homespun linen. This was in truth a new 
world to which I had come, but its first breath 
had been of hospitable welcome, and its first 
glimpse of comfort, home-like though rude. 

The greetings and first inquiries, of which 
naturally Elizabeth was the centre, were hardly 
over when Aunt Kate, a smiling-faced black 
woman, came in from the kitchen, built in 
Southern style separate from the house, and 
began to place supper on tl^e table. It was a 
true frontier meal, a haunch of venison on a 
big wooden trencher, a dish of stewed squir- 
rels, corn pones, made from meal pounded 
in a mortar hollowed out of a stump, wild 
honey dripping from the comb, fox grape pre- 
serve, cakes fried in bear’s grease, and sweet- 
ened with maple sugar. And here there were ^ 


122 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


neither logs for seats nor sharpened sticks for’ 
forks; the Zane’s were a wealthy family for 
that time and region, and their way of living 
was as ample as conditions well made possible. 

The table too, which at the first had seemed 
to me so unusual in length I quickly found had 
need to be, for aside from their own large 
family seldom was the day that from one to a 
dozen guests did not share its generous free- 
dom. That afternoon the number included be- 
side my father and me, John Lyon and Lewis 
Wetzel, and I heard Clark decline an invitation 
to ‘‘ step in for a bite,” as his mother would 
hear that the raft had come and be expecting 
him, and he must see to taking off his share 
of the load. And if that first evening I won- 
dered at the ease and calm with which Mrs 
Zane managed her great household, I marveled 
the more when I came to know her better 
and see what came under her hand. Large- 
hearted, generous, of deep religious feelinp- 
with indomitable energy, and ceaseless activ- 
ity, and untiring labors, she was a noble type 
of the frontier woman. More, she was a prod- 
uct of the frontier, all her life had been spent 
among its hardships, its dangers, its startling 
incidents, and scenes that a few years from 
^now will be thought almost incredible. Often 


THE JOURNEY'S END. 


123 


did I contrast Aunt Alsara and Mrs. Zane, the 
one in her sheltered, quiet, exactly ordered 
life; the other no less thrifty or able a man- 
ager, but who lived never knowing what ca- 
tastrophe a day might bring, nor the unfore- 
seen duty of the hour, whether it would be a 
wounded man brought in and laid on her floor 
to die or be nursed back to health, a company 
of hunters or travelers to feed, or a call to 
some sick-bed, perhaps miles through the 
forest. All this had developed the woman of 
splendid courage, of unshaken calm, of un- 
faltering faith; and what was true of her was 
true of hundreds of other women who in 
widely scattered log cabin homes stayed the 
hearts and hands of husbands, sons, lovers, 
through those pioneer years of toil and trial 
and danger. 

.When supper was over my father asked, 
“ Do you want to see our home Phoebe ? ’’ 

“ To be sure I do. Daddy.” 

‘‘ Come along, then.” 

A few minutes’ walk brought us to it, for 
it stood on the same ridge and but a little dis- 
tance from Colonel Zane’s. The house was of 
logs notched at the corners, some eighteen feet 
square, with a roof of long white oak shingles, 
or shakes,” held in place by rows of heavy 


124 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


weight-poles; a stone chimney was against one 
end, the two tiny windows were made by cut- 
ting out a log, the square thus made was fitted 
with crossed sticks and covered by oiled fools- 
cap paper, through which the sunshine came 
soft and mellow; the doors, opposite each other 
were, like the floor, of puncheon planks hung 
on wooden hinges, with a wooden latch that 
opened on the outside by means of a leather 
string, for not a nail had been used in the build- 
ing. For furniture there was a table of a wide 
puncheon, one side fastened to the wall by 
leather hinges the other fitted with legs, a 
couple of rudely made stools, two shelves 
against the wall supported by wooden pins. 
And in one corner a bedstead, made after the 
pattern seen in so many a pioneer home, of 
poles stuck into the walls of the house on one 
side, and supported by upright poles fastened to 
the floor on the other side; over this a cord 
made of thin bark was woven from side to side 
and end to end, and as my father had been 
sleeping here on this rested a tick filled with 
straw and covered with a deer skin and blanket. 

Had I now entered a log cabin for the first 
time my feeling might have been one of dis- 
may, but I had already become accustomed to 
both house and furnishing. Still I will own to 


THE JOURNEY'S END. 


125 


a twinge as I thought of Aunt Alsara’s, of the 
parlor, waiscoted with oak and red cedar, and 
polished with wax and rubbing, of the round 
mahogany tea-table which turned on an axle 
under the centre and stood upright like an ex- 
panded fan in the corner under the looking- 
glass with the scalloped mahogany frame; of 
the high chest of drawers in the kitchen which 
held the household linen, of the dresser for the 
dishes, the cool spring-house, of the clear glass 
windows shaded by dimity curtains; and of 
my own snug room its bedstead of green with 
white hangings, and the walls so clearly white- 
washed. But if there were any homesick tears 
near my eyes I winked them back, “ It’s a very 
comfortable home I’m sure, and with what 
I’ve brought we shall be as snug and happy as 
need be.” 

As I spoke I heard a step and Elizabeth 
Zane appeared in the door, “ Is the latch-string 
out?” she asked gaily, “I wanted to see the 
Phoebe-bird’s nest. Really,” and her black eyes 
glanced about, “ quite an aristocratic log cabin, 
the floor smoothed with an adze and jack plane, 
a tight floor overhead, logs hewed inside, and 
a hewn log for a door-step. And best of all 
so near, I shall come over every day to take 
a dish o’ tea with you.” 


126 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


“ And you shall drink it out of one of my 
best china cups.” 

“ And help to keep Phoebe from being home- 
sick,” added my father. 

For all the cordial cheer it was easy to see 
that the gloom of the so recent defeat hung 
heavy over the settlement. Many who had 
joined the expedition had been neighbors and 
friends. Jonathan Zane had been one of its 
guides, to Wheeling he had led the sadly de- 
pleted army in its retreat; to Wheeling the 
stragglers were coming in, wounded, half 
starved, with the story of their suffering and 
accounts of the slain, and all realized the in- 
creased danger to the whole Ohio border. 

Already I had asked my father who Simon 
Girty was and he had answered, “ An Ameri- 
can who has joined the British against his 
country; a white man who leads the Indians 
to pillage and massacre, and is more savage 
than the savages themselves. In all the border 
there are no names more execrated than the 
Girty’s, Simon and his brother George.” 

Dusk was beginning to gather as Elizabeth 
and I returned to Colonel Zane’s, and to a 
group gathered around the door Jonathan 
Zane was telling the story of the march and 
disaster to his brother, who listened with a 


THE JOURNEY’S END. 


127 


troubled face. Presently a boy of about fif- 
teen, sturdy and freckled-faced, came up and 
edged towards Lewis Wetzel, “ What is it 
Josh ? ” I heard him say. 

“ It’s John Mills, who you know went out 
with Crawford. His horse gin out as he was 
cornin’ in, an’ he had ter leave it over at Injun 
Springs. He’s been wantin’ to go back after it, 
but I told him to better wait till you cum, an’ git 
you to go along with him, an’ so he’s waited.” 

“ Does he want his horse bad enough to 
risk his skin for it?” asked Wetzel. 

“ I dunno, only he wants the horse.” 

All right,” carelessly, ‘‘ tell him then I’ll 
go with him in the morning.” 

Still the boy lingered. ‘‘ Say Lew,” he 
urged, “ won’t you let me go with you ? ” 

“ Why Josh you may lose yer hair.” 

O come Lew,” he persisted, “ lemme go. 
I’ve never had a chance to go much on scouts.” 

“ Well yes then, ef your heart’s set on it. 
Josh ’ll make a scout yet, he added to the 
others, “ he’s got the mettle.” 

With that a delighted grin spread over 
Josh’s freckled face, and turning he strutted 
away with as pleased an air as if instead of a 
deadly danger he had gained the promise of a 
holiday pleasure trip. 


CHAPTER XIL 


A GLIMPSE OF BORDER LIFE. 

When Colonel Zane appeared the next 
morning his dress of the outer world had been 
exchanged for that of the typical frontiersman, 
moccasins, leggins, and hunting-frock. As he 
rose from the breakfast table and took down 
his rifle he turned to us, Pm going over to 
the Island this morning, Betty wouldn’t you 
and Phoebe like to go along ? ” 

Elizabeth clapped her hands, “ Be sure I 
will.” I hesitated wistfully. Mrs. Zane read 
my thought, “ Go with them,” she urged, 
“ never mind your unpacking, there’ll be time 
enough for that.” So with four-year-old 
Noah, and his small sister Rebecca, we were 
soon in a canoe on the river. 

The island to which we were crossing was 
also Colonel Zane’s farm, and beyond its bor- 
dering sycamores and willows were fertile 
fields of corn, wheat, and vegetables, which 
not only provided for his own family but fur- 
128 


A GLIMPSE OF BORDER LIFE. 


129 


nished supplies to the boatmen passing up and 
down the river; together with orchards of 
apples and peaches, already coming into bear- 
ing. While he was looking after the condi- 
tion of his growing crops the children, Eliza- 
beth and myself strolled about and sat under 
the shading trees near the water, where after a 
time Colonel Zane joined us. 

“ And so you were the first man who saw 
the spot where Wheeling now is,” I said as 
he sat down beside us, fanning himself with 
the wide brim of his rye straw hat. ‘‘ I wish 
you’d tell me about it, and why you came 
here?” 

He smiled, “ It’s hard to answer that last 
question. I suppose it was really that inward 
something which impels us to push out and 
on, the impulse which sent our fathers to this 
New World and will scatter their children all 
over it. Yes, I was one of the first to explore 
the country from the South Branch of the Po- 
tomac through the Alleghanies and westward. 
Nor shall I ever forget my first trip. It was 
late in the fall when a little company of us set 
out; storms came on while were were still 
among the mountains, with ice and snow, so 
that we did not dare to keep on to the Ohio, 
and turned back without the sight. But win- 


130 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


ter set in and caught us like a wolf in a trap, 
and it was bitter cold, I almost shiver now 
when I think how we suffered and struggled 
on half frozen, well nigh dead. We won 
through at last but poor Robinson died of it, 
Williams was badly frozen, and we were all 
frost bitten more or less. 

“ But I did not give up the idea, and at last, 
one bright September morning in 1769, I 
stood for the first time, and the first time also, 
no doubt, that the foot of a white man had 
ever stood there, on the high bank of the river 
just above the mouth of Wheeling Creek. And 
as I stood there and looked off over the island, 
the hills, the river, I felt like the Queen of 
Sheba when she visited Solomon, the half 
hadn’t been told me. I’ve thought many a 
time how it looked to me then. It was one 
of those still September mornings with a cool 
freshness in the air; a light mist was lifting 
from the water, and as it rose there lay the 
river, clear and calm, winding away with the 
peaceful wooded hills on every side and be- 
yond ridge after ridge rising as far as I could 
see. At the first glance I saw what a spot it 
was, and I said to myself, ' here shall be my 
home.’ At that time there wasn’t a single 


A GLIMPSE OF BORDER LIFE. 


131 

English settlement the whole length of the 
Ohio, and the whole region was practically un- 
trodden; but I felt as sure then as I do now, 
that some d^y this spot would through trade 
and travel become an important centre. 

So that fall I built a cabin, and the next 
spring when I came on with Betsey and the 
baby, ’twas only Kate then, my brothers, Jona- 
than and Silas, and Andrew came with me; so 
also did Colonel Shepherd, John Wetzel, father 
of Lewis, and my father-in-law’s family, the 
McCulloch’s; though each of these last chose 
locations of their own. Well we have seen 
some hard, and some dark days, but we have 
lived through them and I think we will these 
also.” 

“ And were the Indians always so bad ? ” I 
asked. ^ 

No, they were quite friendly at the first, 
but on the frontier there are apt to be some 
who are lawless, so there was wrong on both 
sides, outrage and retaliation, and in the 
bloody year of the three 7’s, as it was called, 
open war broke out.” 

“ That was a sad year for the patriot cause 
also. But did you have the fort ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, it was almost new. Fort Fincastle, 


132 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


it was called at first ; but we changed the name 
in honor of Patrick Henry, governor of Vir- 
ginia, for though so remote we are still pa- 
triots and love our country.” 

‘‘ That was the year the Indians attacked the 
fort was it not?” asked Elizabeth. 

“And did you know they were coming?” 
I was thinking what the fear and dread of 
such days must be. 

“ We had word from Fort Pitt that we were 
threatened, and our brother, the Wyandotte 
chief, sent us warning. But time went by, 
they did not come and we thought the danger 
passed, when one morning, it was the first of 
September, just at sunrise Andrew, Daddy 
Sam, and two others went out to look for some 
horses, and the Indians fired on them killing 
one man : the others escaped, Andrew by leap- 
ing from a cliff seventy feet high, and brought 
the alarm. Thinking there was only a small 
party of Indians fourteen men went out to 
drive them away, of these but two escaped; 
another little company went to their help and 
met almost the same fate, though some man- 
aged to hide in the bushes till night gave them 
a chance to crawl back to the fort. That left 
thirty-three men in the fort to defend it against 
three hundred Indians.” 


A GLIMPSE OF BORDER LIFE. 


133 


I gave a little cry, “ And you did defend 
it?’^ 

‘‘ Yes, not a soul flinched, man or woman : 
indeed the women cheered and encouraged the 
men.” 

“ I know Betsey would,” remarked Eliza- 
beth. 

“ Yes, Betsey was one of the foremost, with 
her little children clinging to her skirts, she 
molded bullets, loaded rifles, and helped care 
for the wounded. And serious as the assault 
was, lasting all day and far into the night, 
that was not the worst, for before the Indians 
finally retreated they killed all the live stock, 
fired every house outside the fort, and de- 
stroyed everything they could lay their hands 
on. The attack had so quickly followed the 
alarm that the settlers had hurried to the 
shelter of the fort with no time to secure their 
effects, many with nothing but their clothes, 
and few that had either a bed or food. It was 
a sorrowful morning, we had our lives but we 
had little else; and though we set to work at 
once to repair the damage it was long indeed 
before the settlement again had the comforts 
which that twenty-four hours had deprived us 
of. And that was the time I built my block- 
house that I trust I can defend.” 


134 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


“ You spoke of the wounded,” I said, at 
such times or when you are sick what do you 
do, you have no doctor ? ” 

He laughed, “ A frontier woman is better 
than most doctors. And when a surgeon is 
wanted why they come for my Betsey, she’s 
the surgeon of the neighborhood. One night a 
young man was shot by the Indians while out 
spearing fish : he had just risen up in the canoe 
which made him an excellent mark, and he 
took the whole volley of seventeen bullets. 
They brought him to my wife, and with only 
a razor she cut out those bullets as nicely as a 
surgeon with delicate instruments could have 
done, and brought him through all right. Just 
give Betsey warm water to bathe a wound, and 
a poultice of slippery elm or, jimson weed, and 
if it can be cured she’ll do it.” 

Colonel Zane sat silent a moment his hand 
fingering his rifle before he spoke again, So 
you see we of the frontier, alone in our soli- 
tude, the vast wilderness that stretches away 
for thousands of miles, have also had our bat- 
tles to fight for freedom. For though the Brit- 
ish armies of the east may never have heard of 
us of the far frontier, Tory sympathizers have 
instigated the Indians, and British agents have 
furnished them with weapons. Hamilton, 


A GLIMPSE OF BORDER LIFE. 


135 


g-overnor of Detroit, may not have paid for 
scalps as charged, but in his desire to seize 
the border and drive back the settlers, he has 
countenanced every form of massacre and 
savage barbarity. Remembering the part the 
British have played we of the frontier have 
reason to say, ‘ Thank God for peace.’ 

'' But do not think,” he hastened to add, 
“ that all our days have been dark : there has 
been gladness in our work, in sharing it with 
one another, and in the world around us. And 
for all that has just happened I am looking 
forward to calmer, happier days in the near 
future. 

But come Noah, Rebecca,” to the children 
who were playing on the edge of the river, 
“ the noon mark will be on the floor, and Aunt 
Kate’s dinner cooked.” 

As we ascended the river bank to the ter- 
race above I paused by the gate of Fort Henry, 
which now stood open in careless security. 
The fort was built after the usual style of 
those of the frontier, with a strong block- 
house two stories in height at each corner, the 
upper projecting two feet over the lower and 
thus lessening the danger from assault; with a 
high palisade of stout white oak pickets be- 
tween these, and a sentry box of white oak 


136 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


logs commanded the region. The inclosure 
was nearly an acre in extent, in the centre 
was the well, a store-house and the captain’s 
house, the latter two stories, with the top made 
for firing the small cannon with which it was 
surmounted, while a number of small cabins 
were ranged along the western wall. 

While Colonel Zane explained its different 
features what impressed me most was its air 
of peace. T1 t€ June sunshine lay over it warm 
and bright, the tall grass waved in the light 
wind, several children were laughing as they 
played in front of one of the empty cabins, and 
little Sarah Zane ran to us with some stems of 
wild strawberries she had just found. “ It 
hardly seems that it could ever have been a 
place of strife and bloodshed,” I said, “ I’m 
sure I hope it never will be again.” 

“ I think it never will be,” answered 
Colonel Zane, the Indians learned its 
strength once, and they have good memories.” 

As we entered the house Elizabeth drew her 
brother’s attention to what I had already no- 
ticed, a heavy iron bound door which seemed 
to lead to a room in the centre of the house. 

“ That,” he said, is the magazine where 
is stored the powder for the defence of the set- 
tlement. It is in my charge so I would rather 


A GLIMPSE OF BORDER LIFE. 


137 


have it here than in the store-house of the 
fort.” 

I have heard of living over a powder 
magazine but this is living with one. I sup- 
pose it is well-behaved powder and never blows 
any one up ? ” 

“ Not unless it is told to.” 

She laughed and drew her fingers lightly 
over the door, nor did we then dream, any of 
us, of the part it was one day to play in her 
life. 

That evening as the shadows began to 
deepen we sat around the door, Mrs. Zane 
with one foot on the baby’s cradle while her 
fingers plied the knitting-needles. Colonel 
Zane in the doorway whittling a hickory ram- 
rod for his gun; and Elizabeth was singing 
softly a nonsense jingle to the small Johnny, 
who in his night-gown cuddled a squirming 
white ball in her lap, 

‘ Mamma’s pretty little honey-hon — 
Honey-honey-honey — 

Fum-fum-fum-fum, 

Fiddle, faddle fum — 

Fiddle, linktum, faddy.’ ” 


Suddenly there sounded quick footsteps, and 
a hatless boy dashed up. At the first glance 


138 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

I recognized Josh, who had been begging the 
night before to go out with Wetzel; and even 
by the uncertain light it was easy to see that 
he was panting as if with exertion, that his 
hair clung in damp wisps to his head, while 
his eyes held an excited almost exultant light. 

“ Well Josh,” Jonathan Zane looked up 
from the rifle he had been polishing, back 
with a whole skin, are you? ” 

“ Lew an’ I be, but the Injuns hev killed 
Mills!” 

They have ? Why, how did that hap- 
pen? ” 

“ ’Twas like this,” his words coming with 
eager shrillness, ‘‘ you know we started soon 
as ’twas daylight this mornin’; well we crossed 
under the point of the Island, an’ struck up 
the ridge, south. The day was so hot that 
’twas about noon when we come near the 
Spring, Lewis was ahead, an’ he stopped an’ 
sed ef there was any Injuns about we’d better 
know it, that they’d be near the springs that 
time o’ day. ' I’ll go ahead. Mills ’ he sed, 

‘ you come next, an’ let Josh be behind.’ So 
we went on. Then Lewis an’ Mills went be- 
hind some bushes ahead of me, right at the 
springs, an’ in a minute there cum the crash 


A GLIMPSE OF BORDER LIFE. 


139 


of rifles, the yells of the Injuns, an’ the scream 
of Mills, all at once, an’ from the noise 
there must a been forty or fifty of the In- 
juns. 

“ A second more an’ Lew come back on the 
trail, with the Injuns after him, an’ he a loadin’ 
an’ runnin’ in a lope like a long dog trot, that’s 
the way he goes when he’s run by the Injuns; 
an’ they was a jumpin’ an’ yellin’ along just 
the way to tire themselves out. Quick as I 
see ’em I fired, then I took ter my heels. I 
ran with all my might, but Lew soon over- 
took me. ‘ Trot, Josh, an’ keep the trail,’ he 
said, an’ I trotted. We hadn’t got over a mile 
when he said, ‘ There’s only four of ’em after 
us now. I’ll pop the foremost’ an’ he did. By 
this time I was purty well beat, ’twas so hot 
an’ we’d run so fast, an’ Lew says, ‘ Don’t run. 
They’re a good piece behind now. Josh, just 
trot along,’ an’ I did as he told me. That was 
easier goin’. But we hadn’t got far till one 
of them Injuns, who had cut across, come out 
right square on us, an’ when Lew turned to fire 
he caught the barrel of his gun. But there 
ain’t the Injun livin’ that’s sharp enough fer 
Lew Wetzel, an’ he just jumped past the Injun 
— then turned the muzzle right against his 


140 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


breast, pulled the trigger, an’ the Injun fell 
down dead.” 

“ That’s like Wetzel,” was Colonel Zane’s 
comment, but go on Josh.” 

“ Then we was off again with two Injuns 
after us. When we got on top of the hill Lew 
said, ‘ Josh, at the next turn of the hill there’s 
a high bank an’ a clump of bushes right below 
it. You jump down an’ lay there till the In- 
juns pass. I’ll meet you at the Creek.’ When 
we got to the bank, I jumped down an’ laid 
right in the bushes. One Injun come up an’ 
went by on the run, an’ then another come up. 
Just opposite where I was he kind of held up, 
an’ I heard the crack of Lew’s rifle ahead. 
An’ the Injun on the bank went ‘Whew, no 
catch him, gun loaded all time,’ an’ with that 
he started back.” 

“ Lewis Wetzel can do what few can, load 
and run at the same time,” explained Andrew 
Zane. “ Did he kill the third one? ” 

“ I guess so; he fell over. Well I met Lew 
at the creek an’ we came in. He’s borrowed a 
horse an’ gone up home, an’ he told me to tell 
you he’d come back as soon as ’twas safe an’ 
help bury Mills.” 

“ Poor John Mills, we’ll make up a party to 
do that,” said Jonathan Zane. And then to the 


A GLIMPSE OF BORDER LIFE. 


141 

boy, “ Well Josh, you’ve had quite an experi- 
ence, you won’t want to go scouting again 
will you? ” 

“ Yes sirree,” came the prompt answer, 
“ I’m goin’ again the first chance I get. I want 
to be a scout just like you and Lew Wetzel 
are.” 

“ That’s the sort of boys out of which we 
make frontiersmen and Indian fighters,” ob- 
served Colonel Zane to my father, as Josh 
limped away, just escaped from deadly peril, 
weary, footsore, but undaunted. 

When I went up to my room that night I 
noted the strength of the walls, the loopholes 
through which to fire. Looking out in the 
moonlight, before me was the fort, and be- 
yond lay the river and forest. Somewhere 
from the dark shadows of the forest came the 
weird half-human cry of a panther; and some- 
where among those same dark shadows were 
lurking men more savage than the beasts. 
Truly I was face to face with the frontier. 


CHAPTER XIIL 


IN THE NEW HOME. 

That afternoon I had made some progress 
with my unpacking, and the next morning I 
returned to the pleasant task of making of the 
four-walled cabin a home. Soon Elizabeth 
followed, and after some bits of gay advice she 
sat for a time silently watching me, and then 
spoke abruptly. 

'' Phoebe, do you know that I almost envy 
you, when I think what it would be if I could 
make a home for my father: while now not 
only does his young wife make his home un- 
happy, but make it impossible for me to share 
it. But there,” before I could speak, '' I will 
not complain, I hate to hear people whine, and 
I am not going to whine however the world 
goes with me. Besides I have my brothers, 
the dearest and best brothers that ever were.” 

“Yes, you are rich there,” I said. 

“ I know I am, and yet do you know, that 
now I see what busy men they are, so useful 
in the settlement, so trusted and depended on 
by every one I feel as if I were as no account 
142 


IN THE NEW HOME. 


143 


and useless as a bit of drift-wood on the river 
yonder.” 

“ You mustn’t talk like that,” I protested, 

you’ve been very useful to me, I don’t be- 
lieve I should have lived to get here without 
you, and we all need you.” 

With that she laughed, ‘‘ Very useful, yes. 
I’m hindering you this minute. But I’ll take 
myself to the blessed out-of-doors, that’s a 
sure medicine for blues and megrims.” 

She had not been gone long when my door 
was again darkened, this time by a tall, spare 
old lady, with a face dark, thin, and wrinkled, 
set in a snowy cap with deep ruffled border, 
while the most noticeable feature of her dress 
was a high woolen apron, and outside pocket. 
In one hand she held a half knit blue stocking, 
and in the other a broom made of a hickory 
sapling, one end split fine and bound with 
stout cord. 

“ I’m Aunt Nabby Shanklin,” was her greet- 
ing, “ I live just yander, an’ so I thought I’d 
run over to say ‘ howdy,’ an’ ter bring ye this 
ere broom. I thought bein’ a man yer pa 
might not think of a broom, an’ ye can’t keep 
red up without one, noways,” her knitting- 
needles clicking vigorous time to her words. 

I thanked my new neighbor and invited her 


144 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


in. “ Land sakes/’ was her remark as she re- 
sponded to my invitation, while her little black 
eyes peered about the room, “ What a power of 
stuff ye hev got. A chist, an’ barrels, an’ 
boxes, yes, an’ two cheers.” And I could 
hardly help a smile for thinking of Aunt Al- 
sara’s lamentations over its meagreness. 

I’m glad fer ye ter hev it all, honey, but 
it ain’t much like the way I come, with just 
what could be fetched on the back of one horse, 
while I walked every step over the mountins, 
an’ knit three pairs o’ socks on the way. But 
la me, times is changed, oncet ’twas only salt 
an’ iron that kim over the mountains, an’ now 
its even chany dishes.” 

“ But why did they want salt and iron more 
than other things ? ” I asked. 

She gave a short laugh, Why folks hes 
ter hev salt, that’s the way the Zane’s first 
made their money, makin’ salt. An’ iron too, 
fer axes, an’ log-chains, an horse shoes, an’ 
plough p’ints, when the land was cleared 
enough ter use ploughs. When I come on 
Short Creek we chopped in our first crop o’ 
corn among the stumps with an ax.” 

Then you have been a pioneer a long time,” 
I ventured. 

“ Sakes, yes, all my life. I was rocked in 


IN THE NEW HOME. 


145 


a sap-trough fer a cradle, back in Virginy, an' 
I’ve kep a-goin’ with the frontier ever since. 
I s’pose ye think it’s new here, but I’ve lived 
in the woods with nary a neighbor in ten mile, 
’cept it was the wolves, an’ they was more 
friendly than they’d any call ter be, ’specially 
when I hadn’t nothin’ but a blanket fer a door 
an’ they’d come nights an’ poke their noses 
inside that.” 

“ And what did you do then ? ” I asked al- 
most frightened at the very thought. 

“ Tuck a brand outen the fire an’ waved it 
at ’em. Wolves air cowardly critters unless 
there’s a lot together. Oncet so many come 
when I was alone that I did get scairt, an’ I 
took my baby’s dress in my teeth an’ dim the 
ladder ter the loft an’ stayed there till my hus- 
band come. Oh,” with easy confidence, 
you’ll git used to the wild varmint. Alore’n 
once I’ve been out ter pick berries an’ found a 
bear on the other side of the clump; but they 
was gen’raly as ready ter make off as I was, an’ 
the most harm bears and wolves ever done us 
was carryin’ off' our pigs an’ sheep. 

What a lot o’ things ye’ve got ter cook 
with,” she added with a glance toward my row 
of utensils. 

‘‘ But my tea-kettle has been lost in com- 


146 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


ing, I hardly know how to get along without 
it.” 

Aunt Nabby gave a short laugh, YeVe 
come ter a place, honey, where folks git along 
whether they have things er not. Why 'twas 
many er day after I come ter Short Creek till 
I had anything but one bake-kittle fer every- 
thing an’ everybody.” 

“ But how did you ever manage? ” I asked 
in genuine wonder, running over in my mind 
the possibilities of a meal with one bake- 
kettle. 

Like most things ’twas in knowin’ how. 
First I biled the water fer tea, then I biled my 
potatoes, an’ fried my pork, an’ then I baked 
my biscuit. Once I mind when I had company 
I fried doughnuts too.” 

“ I shouldn’t have wanted to have company 
often,” I could not help saying. 

“ That depended on who the visitors was ; 
ef ’was white folks I was glad enough, but 
ef ’twas Injuns most times I ruther they’d 
stayed away.” 

“ Indians ! why I should have thought you 
would have been almost frightened to death. 
I’m sure I should have been.” 

“ Well ye see I’m alive yet, an’ considerably 


IN THE NEW HOME. 


147 


Spry at that. Yes, when Injuns are friendly 
they’re apt to come around beggin’. I re- ^ 
member once, I’d got an iron kittle then, I 
was cookin’ dinner when seven o’em came in, 
hungry o’ course, so I took a clean linen sack 
an’ put the potatoes an’ meat an’ beans in it, 
an’ off they went; in about six weeks back they 
all come, an’ brought with ’em the sack, 
washed clean, an’ a quarter o’ venison.” 

‘‘ That showed your kindness had been ap- 
preciated.” 

“ Oh, Injuns hev their good streaks, fact I’ve 
been put to it sometimes ter tell which they 
was the most like, children er devils, I was 
purty sure ’twas the last when they burned our 
cabin.” 

“ Burned your cabin,” I cried. “ Did they 
hurt you ? ” 

“No, my husband an’ me hed gone ter see . 
a sick neighbor, I heard arterwards that they 
wanted ter steal some pewter plates I had, — 
seein’ yours on the shelf made me think o’em.” 

“ But what did you do ? ” 

“ Oh I found my bake-kittle in the chimney 
corner, so I set up a kitchen in a big holler 
sycamore stub, an’ when the men come ter 
help raise another cabin I bad a dinner fer 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


’em, with clean white oak chips to eat offen, 
an’ the knives an’ folks I’d raked out o’ the 
ashes with the handles burned off.” 

I sat looking at the cheery old woman with 
a wonder too great for words, while the 
knitting-needles clicked in her strong old 
hands. 

“ I see,” she said presently, that ye’ve 
never been used ter things as they be here, an’ 
I ’spose at first ’twill come perty tough mebbe; 
but I want ter give ye one word o’ advice, 
honey, don’t be like a startin’ horse an’ jump 
at every thing ye see.” 

I smiled, “ I’ve seen, or at least I’ve heard 
a good deal already, and I haven’t jumped 
yet.” 

She gave a nod of approval, “ That’s right, 
I know these be scairy times, but I’ve lived 
through a good many such. When Daniel, 
my husband, used ter be out at work I was 
mortal afraid he’d be shot by the Injuns, but 
he was killed by a tree failin’ on him ; an’ when 
my oldest son Abner used ter go out scoutin’ 
I was most sure he’d get scalped, but he broke 
through the ice an’ was drowned. So I’ve 
come ter the ’pinion thet we’ll live out our 
’p’inted time Injuns or no Injuns. 

Now I come over ter say that ef any time 


IN THE NEW HOME. 


149 


ye wanted anything of anybody Fm right 
handy. Fm always ready to sheer, ef folks’ll 
only bring back. There’s my meal-sieve, a 
certain person, I won’t call no names, hed a 
habit o’ borrowin’ that, an’ every time Fd hev 
ter send fer it; finally I went fer it myself with 
a whip, an’ I give that sieve a good switchin’, 
ses I to it, ‘ ye’r welcome ter come over here 
as often as ye’r needed, an’ ter stay as long 
as ye’r needed, but then I want ye ter come 
home again.’ An’,” she added with a twinkle 
of the eye, it has ever since.” 

Aunt Nabby rose to leave but paused in the 
door. “ They tell me that where ye come from 
folks ride in what they call carriages ? ” 

As this seemed in the nature of a question I 
answered, “ Yes.” 

“ An’ I ’spose ye’ve rode in ’em ? ” 

Again I answered in the affirmative. 

Well now do ye really like it as well as 
ridin’ on a horse ? ” 

“ I hardly know,” I replied, “ I enjoy horse- 
back riding very much.” 

“ Well I heerd of a woman that went to 
Baltimore, an’ she tried ter ride in a carriage, 
an’ it made her so sea-sick she couldn’t. Fm 
sure ’twould sarve me just so, I never rode 
any way but on a horse’s back, an’ I never 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


150 

want to.” And with that emphatic opinion, 
her knitting-needles still clicking she stepped 
briskly away, her wide cap border shaking 
with every step. 

It was to be an afternoon of callers, for 
hardly was Aunt Nabby Shanklin out of sight 
when I again heard a step at the door. This 
time it was John Lyon, bareheaded and with 
his hat carefully balanced in his hand. 

I heard you’d started housekeeping, and 
thought these might come handy.” He set 
down his rifle as he spoke, and lifting off the 
large green leaves that covered his hat dis- 
played it full of wild strawberries, laid in a 
bed of their own leaves. 

“ Oh, how fragrant they are, and how pretty 
they are, and how good they will taste,” I 
cried flushing with pleasure, I am faring 
sumptuously. Mr. Jonathan Zane brought me 
some squirrels, Mrs. Zane sent over a loaf of 
white bread, and cheese of her own making, 
Mrs. Shanklin has brought me a broom; every 
one is so very kind.” 

He took the hat I had given back and turned 
its rim slowly round in his fingers, ‘‘ Oh yes, 
you will find no kinder hearts in the world than 
here on the frontier. But for all that, I know 


IN THE NEW HOME. 


151 

that this is a great change for you, and that 
we must all seem rude and rough enough.” 

“ Oh, no ! ” I exclaimed in protest, “ I don’t 
mind the change, and all the people I have 
met seem so true and sincere. I’m sure I should 
enjoy the life, and be happy here, if it were 
not for these dreadful things happening all 
around,” and I could not help a shuddering 
shiver as I spoke. 

I know,” he answered, “ I saw how you 
felt by your face on the raft when they were 
telling of Colonel Crawford. I wish you 
might not have to hear these things.” 

But it is little for me to hear them to what 
it is for them who suffer them.” 

Believe me it will not always be like this. 
Calmer days are sure to come, and I wanted 
to tell you that nowhere were there braver 
men, who would do and dare more for the 
safety of their settlements than those of the 
Ohio border.” 

“ And Master John Lyon is one of these.” 

“ Of a truth I hope so. If anything I could 
do or give, even to my life, could add to the 
security of those here, or — or to yours, I’d 
think ’twas well given.” 

I had little doubt that there was a name in 


152 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


his mind he had not uttered, and that it was 
Elizabeth Zane; but his words had none the 
less the true heroic ring, the more so that as 
I had already learned he had in more than 
one peril proved them true. 

“ I say this to you now,’’ he added as he 
stretched out his hand for his rifle, because 
I am going out scouting, and I wanted you not 
to worry; to know that all the time there are 
those on watch, and that as far as may be 
you will be guarded and kept safe.” 

“ And to do that you will go into dan- 
ger.” 

He laughed easily, “ If I do it is no more 
than the Zane’s, and Lewis Wetzd, and Sam 
McCulloch, and those all about me are doing 
every day. Besides you must remember that 
it’s danger I’m used to, and that has a certain 
tingle of enjoyment.” 

And as he went away, threading the stump- 
dotted path with his head well up and his 
light free tread, though he might, as he had 
said, be but one of many, none the less he was 
a type of the men who have dared and con- 
quered and held the New World. 

A little later I ran across to Mrs. Zane’s. 

Where’s Betty, isn’t she with you ? ” was 
the first question. 


IN THE NEW HOME. 


153 


“No, I haven’t seen her since early this 
afternoon.” 

But hardly had I spoken when Elizabeth 
came walking blithely in, a fresh color glow- 
ing in her cheek, and a great wreath of oak 
leaves hung over her shoulder. “ We were 
just wondering where you could be,” said Mrs. 
Zane. 

“ Oh, out in the woods,” was her careless 
answer. 

“ What, all the afternoon ? ” 

“ I’m sure it has seemed only a little while. 
It must have been in the moccasins that Kate 
let me have this morning, their toes would 
turn towards the woods, and the trees too, 
they all whispered and beckoned, ‘ come come,’ 
I really couldn’t resist.” 

“ But Betty,” remonstrated her brother 
Silas, “ don’t you know it isn’t safe for you to 
be out alone, nobody knows where?” 

“ And Betty,” added Colonel Zane, “ don’t 
you think you are too old now to be spending 
your time running about the woods ? ” 

Elizabeth looked from one to another her 
eyes full of saucy laughter. “ See here Eben- 
ezer,” and she held up her hand, “ Jonathan, 
Silas, Andrew, you every one of you love the 
woods, your moccasins point to them, and the 


154 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


trees call you to them : and when you put your 
guns on your shoulders and say you must go 
hunting or scouting it is really because the 
woods are drawing you. That’s one reason 
why you love a life where hunting and scout- 
ing must be done. There are no secrets you 
love so well to learn as those of the woods, no 
breath that is so sweet, nothing that so witches 
and holds you. 

“ And now just because I’m a girl, forsooth, 
you want to shut me up indoors to sew a 
seam and spin a thread. I’ll do both some 
time, but not yet. I’ve been penned up till I 
long for a bit of freedom. I’ve pined for the 
woods all these years, let me enjoy them 
again.” 

Her brothers who were all present, smiled, 
for they recognized the truth in her words, 
and it was not easy for them to be anything 
but indulgent to their young sister. Jonathan, 
the skilled woodsman, whose understanding of 
wilderness ways was almost as marvelous as 
the Indians, was the first to speak, “ If ’twas 
only a safe time, Betty, you might enjoy the 
woods, and out of doors’, to your heart’s con- 
tent.” “ And even as it is,” added Colonel 
Zane’s quiet, kindly voice, “ we’ll see what we 
can do for her.” 


IN THE NEW HOME. 


155 


And that* night when I had climbed up the 
ladder to my loft chamber I looked out of 
my open and unglazed window to the dark 
line of surrounding forest with a thought of 
John Lyon, who it might be even then was 
watching that we might sleep undisturbed, 
and facing danger that we might rest in safety. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


FACT AND LEGEND. 

The next morning Elizabeth stopped at my 
door, and at the first glance I saw she was in 
a gleeful mood, “ Come Phoebe-bird, your good 
father has gone with my good brother Silas for 
the day, and so I want you to come with me.’’ 

“ And where to ? ” 

“To the woods,” with a wave of her hand. 
“ I want you to know the woods.” 

“ Well,” I answered a trifle drily, “ I might 
have been ignorant of the woods when I set out 
for the Ohio, but I think I know something of 
them now.” 

“ You mean you have seen their edges, but 
that is not like being in the very heart of the 
woods.” 

“ But I thought your brothers said ” 

“We have come to an agreement, I have 
promised not to leave the settlement when they 
say I must not, and in return I am to have 
all the freedom possible. And, oh, I feel like a 
bird let loose from a cage, you will see me 
inside four walls but little this summer. I 
156 


FACT AND LEGEND. 


157 


am going to row a canoe on the river, and 
search the woods, and ride on horseback, and 
carry a rifle; and be out all my brothers will 
let me; they needn’t say one word, either, it’s 
in the blood of all of us, the love for the open, 
the blessed wide, out of-doors.” 

“But are you sure it’s safe? You know 
how lately Mills was killed, he lies unburied 
yet, and Lewis Wetzel and Josh just escaped 
with their lives ! ” 

“ That was on the other side of the river, be- 
sides I am to have Daddy Sam as a body guard 
to keep watch for me.” 

“ And will he make it safer ? ” 

^ She laughed merrily, “ You don’t know 
Daddy Sam, he’s a regular Indian fighter. I’m 
very sure he must have belonged to a warrior 
tribe in Africa. So you see everything is all 
secure and you must come with me Phoebe, 
I’m going to make a real frontier girl of you.” 

I could not resist Elizabeth, for that matter 
I never could, and soon I found myself by her 
side climbing the high hill back of and over- 
looking the settlement. On the summit we 
paused for breath, and also for the view; be- 
low us in the clear June sunshine lay the clus- 
tering cabins, the fort, the cultivated fields; on 
the left was the broad Ohio, winding away 


158 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

among the green hills, the view bounded by 
ridge after ridge rising one above another into 
the blue distance. And looking at it all I under- 
stood how Colonel Zane’s heart must have 
swelled with the beauty and promise of the 
scene as it opened for the first time to his 
vision. Turning around on the narrow ridge 
over which the road led, Wheeling Creek was 
directly under us, at the foot of a precipice, and 
running so as to make the town, with the hill 
behind, almost a peninsula between it and the 
Ohio. 

Elizabeth called my attention to the spot 
where we stood, “ Pretty steep down this isn’t 
it?” 

“ Steep ! it makes me almost dizzy to look 
down.” 

“ And yet here is where Major McColloch 
made his leap.” 

“His leap!” I echoed. 

“ Yes, it was a wonderful thing to do, An- 
drew was telling me about it last night. Sam 
McColloch is Betsey’s brother, one of the most 
noted Indian fighters on the whole frontier, 
while by his skill as a scout he has saved the 
settlements more than once. Naturally the In- 
dians hate him as much as they fear him, they 
have vowed vengeance if ever they catch him 


FACT AND LEGEND. 


159 


and have tried in every way to do that : so you 
see what kind of a man Major McColloch is. 

“ What I am going to tell happened at the 
time of the assault on Fort Henry that Ebene- 
zer told us of. The alarm came to him that the 
Indians had attacked the fort and with forty 
mounted men he came over from Fort Van 
Metre, on Short Creek, where he lives. But 
just as the gate of the fort was thrown open 
for them the Indians made a rush, and in his 
anxiety for his men, who all escaped safely, 
he held back, till he found himself entirely cut 
off, and turning he rode at full speed, with the 
Indians close behind, up the hill, hoping to gain 
the summit and so escape along the ridge to 
Fort Van Metre. But just as he was at this 
point, galloping ahead of the yelling Indians, 
and was congratulating himself on his escape, 
what should he meet of a sudden but more In- 
dians, who were on their way back from plun- 
dering another, settlement. 

“ There he was between the two, and nobody . 
better realized the danger than himself. The 
Indians saw their advantage and all set up a 
shout, sure they had him at last, for there did 
seem no earthly way of retreat or escape. But 
he knew that to fall alive into their hands 
meant torture and the stake, and he made up 


i6o BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

his mind that he’d rather die among the rocks. 
They say the hill is three hundred feet high 
here, and as you see it’s almost a sheer descent. 
But he didn’t stop a moment to hesitate, there 
was no time for that with the Indians just be- 
hind. He only settled himself in the saddle, 
gripped his bridle with one hand, held his 
rifle tight with the other, and pushed his old 
horse, that never faltered either, right over 
this brink. There was a plunge and a crash, 
trees cracked and rocks tumbled. That was 
all the Indians could see or hear; but if they 
had missed the delight of putting him to death, 
they were feeling the pleasure of being sure 
at least that he would never do them any more 
injury, when what should they see but the 
Major galloping safely on his old white horse 
across the bottom, and away. Wouldn’t I like 
to have seen the faces of those Indians about 
that time? 

Daring, did you say ? I re^ckon it was. I 
brought you this way to have you see it, I shall 
tell Major Sam McColloch what I think of it 
the next time I see him. One doesn’t need to 
read in history to find heroes, they are all 
about us here.” 

“ My father says these are the men who are 
making history.” 


FACT AND LEGEND. 


i6i 


I wouldn’t dispute him. But the worst of 
it is that my hero, Major Sam, went and mar- 
ried a few months ago and never waited for 
me to come back.” 

“ I’m afraid Elizabeth, that you are a trifle 
of a coquette,” trying to make my tone a re- 
proving one. ‘‘ Here you are not satisfied with 
making an admirer of every young man you 
have met, not to mention the old ones. And by 
the way I meant to ask you who that dashing 
stranger in the deer-skin hunting-frock was 
that I saw you talking with yesterday ? ” 

“ Oh that was Moses Shepherd, I knew him 
ages ago over on the South Branch.” 

“ He seemed to find much pleasure in renew- 
ing the acquaintance.” 

“ Oh Phoebe-bird, those quiet eyes of yours 
see a great deal. But Friend Amabel taught 
us we should not be rude to anyone. I’m sure 
I would not willingly be, especially to a per- 
sonable young man. But come on to the 
woods, they are my first love, and I see Daddy 
Sam watching for me,” and laughing back over 
her shoulder she walked on. 

A little while and we had entered under the 
dense canopy of green, into that soft silence 
only broken by the sibilant rustle of the leaves, 
the song of the birds, or the snicker of a scamp- 


i 62 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


ering squirrel. “ Are they not beautiful ? ” 
Elizabeth cried throwing herself on a bank of 
soft green moss. “ Listen to the voice of the 
woods, breathe the breath of the woods, drink 
the spirit of the woods; think how old they 
are, how vast they are, how grand they are ? 

I thought of it all, and with her I felt the 
spell that a great forest casts, the charm of that 
soft green light, the vastness, the solemnity, 
as of some great cathedral domed with green 
whose arches stretched far and away till the 
eye was lost among the brown pillars. There 
was beauty too, in the forest growths, the ferns 
with their dank fragrance, through whose lace- 
like leaves you waded breast deep, the thickets, 
sassafras, witch hazel, burning bush : a fasci- 
nation in the bright-eyed wood creatures that 
peeped at us, as yet but half afraid. I could 
understand how men have come to love the 
life of the woods so that they have clung to it 
forsaking everything else. But for all this 
there was ever to me a haunting mystery in the 
woods, an undertone of sadness, a dread of 
lurking shadows, a fear of affrights. I liked 
the sunshine of the open far better than that 
green dimness, and glad am I that I have lived 
to see around me much that was dense forests 
now in smooth and sunny fields. And yet the 


FACT AND LEGEND. 


163 


charm of that day, happily passed without 
disturbing incident and revealing as it did 
Elizabeth’s love for, her enthusiastic enjoyment 
of nature, has always remained with me. 

Do the Indians really love the woods ? ” 
asked Elizabeth that evening. 

“ Yes,” answered Colonel Zane, it appeals 
to their appetite, there they find their game; 
to the warrior side of their nature, there they 
make their ambushes and do their best fight- 
ing; and also to the poetic in their nature.” 

“ Poetic,” I cried, “ I didn’t know that there 
was any poetry in the Indian nature, I thought 
it was all savagery.” 

“ Oh no, you are seeing their savage side 
now, I have known Indians whom I held in 
honor and esteem, men true as well as brave. 
They are great story tellers, with a legend for 
almost everything, and many of these while 
rude are poetic. Mother, “ to Mrs. Zane,” you 
remember these things better than I do, can’t 
you tell Phoebe an Indian legend ? ” 

'' Oh yes,” said Kate, “ the one you some- 
times tell us, of the old man and the beautiful 
maiden.” 

“ It is the legend of the trailing arbutus, 
which is the tribal flower of the Algonquin In- 


1 64 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

dians, one an old Algonquin chief, Good Hunt, 
told me long ago.” With the fading light Mrs. 
Zane had laid aside the little frock on which she 
was sewing, but a little stocking had taken its 
place in her fingers that seldom knew idleness, 
and the faint click of her needles formed an ac- 
companiment to the story, as she went on. 

“ It is the story of an old man alone in his 
lodge, he is clad in furs, for it is winter, in 
vain has he sought in the deep snow for wood to 
keep alive the fire in his wigwam, and at last, 
sitting down by the dying embers, he cried 
to the Kigi Manito, Wau kei — the God of 
Heaven — that he might not utterly perish. 
While still the words were on his lips there 
came a great blast of howling wind that blew 
aside the door of his lodge, and there entered 
a most beautiful maiden. Her cheeks were like 
red roses; her eyes were large and glowing, 
like a fawn’s in the moonlight: her hair was 
long and black as the raven’s plume, and 
touched the ground as she walked; her hands 
were covered with willow buds; on her head 
was a wreath of wild flowers; her clothing 
was sweet grass and ferns ; her moccasins were 
fair white lilies; and when she breathed the 
air of the lodge became warm and fragrant. 




' FACT AND LEGEND. 165 

The old man lifted his head and said ‘ My 
daughter, I am indeed glad to see you. My 
lodge is cold and cheerless yet it will shield 
you from the tempest. But tell me who you 
are, that you should come to my lodge in such 
strange clothing. Come, sit down here, and 
tell me of thy country and thy victories, and 
I will tell thee of my exploits. For I am 
Manito. He then filled two pipes with tobacco 
that they might smoke together as they talked. 
When the smoke had warmed the old man’s 
tongue he said, ‘ I am Manito. I blow my 
breath, and the lakes and streams become flint.’ 

“ The maiden answered, ‘ I breathe and 
flowers spring up on all the plain.’ 

“ The old man replied, ‘ I breathe and the 
snow covers all the earth.’ 

“ ‘ I shake my tresses,’ replied the maiden, 
‘ and warm rains fall from the clouds.’ 

“ ‘ When I walk abroad,’ answered the old 
man, ‘ the leaves wither and fall from the 
trees. At my command the animals hide them- 
selves in the ground, and the fowls forsake the 
waters and fly away. Again I say, “ I am 
Manito.” 

“ The maiden made answer, ' When I walk 
abroad, the plants lift up their heads, and the 


i66 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


naked trees robe themselves in living green ; the 
birds come back; and all who hear me sing for 
joy. Music is everywhere.’ 

As they talked the air became still warmer 
and more fragrant in the lodge; the old man’s 
head drooped upon his breast and he slept. 
Then the sun came back, and the bluebirds 
came to the top of the lodge and sang '‘We are 
thirsty. We are thirsty,’ and S’ebin (the river) 
sang ' I am free. Come, come and drink.’ And 
while the old man was sleeping the maiden 
passed her hand over his breast and he began to 
grow small. Streams of water poured out of 
his mouth, very soon he became but a small 
mass upon the ground, and his clothes turned 
to withered leaves. 

“ Then the maiden kneeled upon the ground, 
took from her bosom the most precious pink 
and white flowers there, and hiding them under 
the fading leaves, and breathing upon them 
said, ' To you I give all my virtues, and all 
the sweetness of my breath; and all who pick 
you shall do so only on bended knees.’ 

" Then the maiden moved lightly away 
through the woods and over the plains; and 
wherever her foot pressed, and nowhere else, 
grows the tribal flower of the Algonquin, — 
the trailing arbutus.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


MY FIRST GUEST. 

It is strange how quickly we adapt ourselves 
to circumstances and surroundings the most 
novel and untried, and I had soon fitted into 
my log cabin home, almost as though I had 
never known any other. I swept my puncheon 
floor with Aunt Nabby’s hickory splint broom, 
I cooked venison and made corn pones, and 
sweetened our tea with maple sugar, and as 
soon as berries should ripen I purposed at- 
tempting a pie in whose crust the fat of a bear 
should serve for shortning. 

Nor were those unhappy days. There was 
the pleasure of feeling that I was useful, in the 
knowledge that I was adding to my father’s 
comfort, in the sight of his evident content; 
and though but a one-roomed cabin it was still 
the home I had so long looked forward to, and 
had it not been for the ever-present fear of the 
Indians I should have found my new life a 
most enjoyable one. 

There was little of formality, and much of 
hearty fellowship on the frontier, and quickly 
167 


i68 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


I knew the folk who made up the settlement, 
which included the young people, and espe- 
cially the two girls nearest my own age, Molly 
Scott and Lydia Boggs, though for a while they 
held themselves apart as hardly wishing to 
be friends, something that for the time I could 
not well understand, till afterwards Molly 
Scott confessed that they had taken the fancy 
that because Elizabeth and I had just come 
from the East we would think ourselves better 
than they. A foolish idea truly, and one which 
never entered our minds, the only result of 
which was that this aloofness of the others 
made us but the faster friends. 

And while it may well be that the days in 
a remote clearing would hold a lonely mo- 
notony; those of the life into which I had come, 
though so unlike the one I had before known, 
were anything but lonely or monotonous. True 
it was a strange little world of its own, one 
into which a breath of the great outside seldom 
entered, in which letters and newspapers were 
almost unknown, and where even the books 
that had made the long journey over the moun- 
tains were few indeed. At the same time it 
was never a stagnant world, its tasks were too 
numerous and pressing, its uncertainties too 
close and constant, its hopes too vivid for that. 


MY FIRST GUEST. 


169 


From the nature of things the daily success and 
safety of the hunters, the stopping of a boat on 
its way down or up the river, the arrival of a 
stranger, the news of an Indian attack, became 
events of keenest interest. And if books were 
few there were the almost endless stories of 
border life and warfare, to thrill the blood 
with daring exploit, or to chill it with bloody 
tragedy. 

Wheeling too, had already become a place of 
importance on the river, and as the center, the 
gathering point for the outlying settlements 
around. And in Wheeling Colonel Zane’s big 
blockhouse was the social center; as the lead- 
ing man of the community, as commander of 
the militia for that region, as one foremost in 
public affairs, as well as in wise sagacity and 
kindliness of heart, he was constantly sought; 
to listen to a tale of Indian depredation, to 
consult as to measures of defense, to settle dis- 
putes, to give opinion, advice, help. To me 
there was an unceasing fascination also in that 
great household, the stir of its busy life, the 
cheery turmoil of its comers and goers, the 
breadth of its wide-open hospitality that wel- 
comed alike all who sought its shelter. 

With all this, of mingled novelty without 
and healthy occupation within those early days 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


170 

would have been very happy but for a dark 
shadow that lay across them. It came before 
the first week was ended, I mind the very hour 
it fell. It was late afternoon, my father 
had come in from a day’s work in the field, 
and was sitting in the doorway, when some one 
going by stopped and said, Did you know 
we are afraid John Lyon has been captured by 
the Indians ? ” 

“ Why are you? ” asked my father. 

“No one has seen or heard anything of him 
since he went out on this last scout: he failed 
to meet Lewis Wetzel as he had agreed to; an’ 
this afternoon a hunter brought in a cap like he 
wore with blood-stains on it, that he’d found in 
a thicket near the river.” 

“ And can nothing be done ? ” 

“ I’m afraid not. The redskins are skulkin’ 
so on the other side of the river that ’twould 
be hardly safe to venture across. Ef John 
was alive they’d have him miles away by this 
time, but ef he’s fell into their clutches it ain’t 
noways likely that he is alive by now.” 

I turned away from the light and tried to 
steady my voice as I asked, “ Father, do you 
think it is true? ” 

“ From what we have just heard I am afraid 


so. 


MY FIRST GUEST. 


171 

‘‘ And if the Indians have caught him will 
they kill him ? ” 

“ I cannot tell, we will hope for the best, 
but we must not hope too much, the Indians 
had reason to hate him.” 

I did not ask what the manner of that death 
might be, I dared not, the memory of what 
they had inflicted on one prisoner was still too 
fresh. I felt myself growing faint with the 
very thought. And so his words had been 
true, he had indeed given himself in the en- 
deavor to secure the safety of others, and the 
tears filled my eyes as I thought what a sacri- 
fice that noble, strong young life had been. 
Nor did I need the slow certainty of days, from 
that first moment I felt that hope was vain. 

It was but a few days later, the sun had 
crept close to the noon-mark on the floor, I 
had drawn the potatoes out of their bed in the 
hot ashes and winged each one carefully off 
with the wild turkey’s wing, the latest trophy 
of my father’s rifle, and the venison before the 
fire was just done to a turn when I saw him 
coming in company with a stranger. A stout- 
built old man, grizzly gray of hair, and stoop- 
ing of shoulder, but with a quickness of step 
that spoke neither of years nor infirmity. As 
they entered my father said, “ Set on another 


172 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


plate Phcebe, I have brought a guest to share 
our dinner, Mr. Skene Lowe, who knows the 
woods better than we knew the fields about our 
home.” 

“ Wall, I orter know the woods,” said the 
old man in a cracked, high-keyed voice as he 
set down his long rifle and unslung his powder 
horn, “ Lve been a lamin’ o’ ’em, boy an’ man 
fer over sixty year, an’ I’ll own I feel more ter 
home eat in’ a bit o’ jerk by the side o’ a log, 
than ter set down to a table with a white kiver,” 
and he glanced at the one I had already spread. 

With the exception of Elizabeth, who ran 
in and out like one of our own family, this was 
my first guest, and with a young housekeeper’s 
pride, and the remembrance of Aunt Alsara’s 
oft repeated injunctions, I made a few hasty 
additions to my table, and for one that of my 
best Delft plates. How needless this was I 
soon found, for hardly were we seated when 
the old hunter drew his long knife from its 
sheath by his side and looking at the plate be- 
fore him half dubiously said, “ Ef ye’ll take it 
kindly I’d ruther have another kind o’ a plate, 
this yer’s dreadful dullin’ to a knife.” 

“ But you need not use your own knife,” I 
told him, “ there is one by the side of your 
plate.” 


MY FIRST GUEST. 


173 


“ Yes, I seen there was, but I’d ruther have 
my own, it fits my hand better,” then with a 
half apologetic air as I handed him the pewter 
plate, “Ye see I’m used ter this sort, we didn’t 
have nothin’ better when I was a boy; many’s 
the meal too. I’ve et with only wooden trench- 
ers an’ noggins an’ when they was scurse why 
gourds an’ hard shell squashes could make up.” 

In honor of his coming I had made a pot of 
tea, but as I poured out and offered him a cup 
he shook his head, “ That sort o’ tea ware may 
be all right fer wimmen an’ children but it’s too 
small fer men.” 

“ Perhaps I can find a larger cup.” 

“ The cup’s all right but I don’t keer for the 
tea noways.” 

I felt my face redden, “ If I had known that 
I’d have made coffee.” 

“ Oh no, I don’t keer fer none o’ them slops, 
they don’t stick by the ribs. Of course they’re 
all right,” he hastened to add, “ fer quality 
folks an’ them that don’t work er are sick, but 
I ain’t none o’ them.” Afterwards my father 
told me that a genuine backwoodsman of old 
Uncle Skene’s type was apt to think himself 
disgraced by showing any fondness for what he 
had called “slop.” 

By this time I began to look over the table 


174 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


and wonder what next he would refuse. 
“ White riz bread,” was his comment as he 
took the proffered slice, “ that wus somethin' 
we didn't see much of when I was a young- 
ster.'' 

“What did you have then?'' I asked with 
the thought that if ever he came again I would 
try and prepare a meal to his taste. 

“ Wall 'twas mostly corn bread and pone, 
hog an' hominy fer breakfast, hominy an' hog, 
pone an' corn bread fer dinner; an' fer supper 
mush and milk wus the standin' dish. When 
milk wus lackin' which wus often enough, fer 
cattle was scurse, an' when we did have 'em 
the pasture wasn’t always the right sort, or 
they'd go down on the bottoms an’ eat leeks, 
why then we'd fall back on hominy agen, or 
else we’d eat our mush, as I hev right often, 
with either sweetened water, bear's ile, er the 
gravy o' fried meat.'' 

“ Have some more venison,” father urged, 
as under the attacks of the big knife that on his 
plate rapidly disappeared. 

“ Thank ye kindly I will,” was the response, 
“ It’s a prime cut, an’ this little darter o' yourn 
hes cooked it nigh as well as I could myself. 
Ye needn’t laugh at that,” to me, “ fer we old 
hunters air apt ter low that nobody but us 


MY FIRST GUEST. 


^75 


raely knows how ter cook venison. I often 
think,” he added reflectively, “ that we don’t 
thank the Lord fer deer, nigh es much as we’d 
orter. Ef it wan’t fer deer an’ turkey we in 
this part o’ the world ’Id go hungry many a 
time. Of course bear’s meat’s good, but ye 
don’t cum on a bear every day, an’ when ye 
do he may be an ugly customer ter tackle. 
Hogs git lost in the woods, an’ wolves an’ 
panthers carry ’em off, but we can always fall 
back on deer.” 

With that the old hunter shoved back from 
the table, lit his pipe, and took from his shot- 
pouch a roll of buckskin and an awl made of 
the back spring of an old clasp knife, ‘‘ I tored 
my moccasin,” he explained, “ an’ I thought 
I’d just patch it, bein’ I hed some whangs cut,” 
and he drew out a bunch of deer skin thongs. 

“ I should think moccasins would be cold 
in winter,” I said as I looked at him. 

“ Ef ye keep ’em well stuffed with deer’s 
hair, er dry leaves they’re cumfertable an’ warm, 
but when it comes wet weather why then 
w’arin’ moccasins is just about a decent way o’ 
goin’ barefoot,” and he chuckled. 

Suddenly he grew sober. ‘‘I’m right sorry 
fer this news o’ John Lyon, him an’ me’s 
scouted an’ hunted together a good many days. 


176 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


an’ he wus too likely a boy ter fall inter the 
hands o’ them red devils.” 

I did not speak, something rose in my throat 
as it had a way of doing whenever his name 
was mentioned, but father said, “ I’ve been 
hoping it might not prove as we fear.” 

The old man shook his head. “ Ef every- 
thing wus right, John’d a been back afore 
this, as near as I can figger some one o’ them 
varmints is a-wearin’ his scalp at their belt. I 
wish I could meet him,” and his lips tightened, 
“ we’d see which cud fire first an’ with the 
best aim. Mind ye, I ain’t a-sayin’ that there 
can't be a decent Injun, but the most o’ ’em is 
cruel, bloodthirsty, treacherous critters that 
ought ter be swep’ offen the face o’ the airth, 
an’ this old rifle hes swep’ a few.” 

As he spoke his features grew set and hard, 
a very passion of hatred kindled in his sunken 
eyes, and with the quick impulse of conviction 
I spoke, “ Perhaps you have reason to feel as 
you do.” 

“ Mebbe I hev. When I was a young man 
I hed a ‘ tomahawk right ’ over towards the 
South Branch, with a clearin’, a snug little 
cabin, a wife, an’ as pert an crowin’ a baby as 
ye’ll often see. That was what I left one 
mornin’, when I cum back at night there was 


MY FIRST GUEST. 


T77 


a heap o’ smoulderin’ ashes where the cabin hed 
stood, an’ under some charred an’ fallen beams 
was a cradle with a dead baby in it, an’ beside 
the cradle lay the baby’s dead mother, an’ 
’twan’t no nat’ral death they’d known either. 
Seemed as if my blood turned ter fire that 
night, an’ it ain’t rightly got cool yit, not 
where an’ Injun’s consarned. I vowed ven- 
geance then, an’ I’ve had my taste on it. 

“ From that day to this I’ve never known a 
home. I’ve been a man o’ the woods. Under 
the trees an’ the stars I’ve lamed things that 
they as live in houses never know. An’ the 
Injuns, well they giv’ old Skene Lowe a wide 
path, they’ve lamed ’tis wisest.” 

His breath came quick, his sallow cheek had 
flushed, the easy going old woodsman had be- 
come a foe driven by a relentless purpose, 
“ But I didn’t mean ter talk o’ this to ye,” he 
hastened to add, “ Ef my baby had liyed I 
wouldn’t wanted nobody ter hev made her pink 
cheeks turn pale es your’n hev; an’ I’m trustin’ 
there won’t no such scenes ever cum inter your 
young life.” 

The momentary .sense of annoyance I had 
first experienced had already merged into pity 
that deepened as I thought of what the years 
had held, the bitter memory, the loneliness of 


178 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


the forest, the absence of every comfort. 

But now why not come into the settlement to 
live,” I urged, “ Surely it would be best, I 
would be glad to do anything I could for you, 
and so Tm sure would every one else.” 

The lines of his face softened, though he 
shook his head, “ Thank ye, thank ye kindly, 
but Fve got used ter my own way o’ livin’. 
Houses kinder choke me, most parts o’ the 
year I’d rather hev the stars over my hed ’en 
any ruff.” 

“ But what of the winter? ” 

“ I hev ter be in the woods then ter tend my 
traps. I’ve lamed how ter fix a perty good 
camp, an’ ef ye keep a good fire an’ lay with 
yer feet ter it there ain’t much danger o’ 
freezin’, ter say nothin’ o’ its keepin’ the wolves 
away. Besides while I like ter see the face o’ 
man now an’ then. I’m feered I should feel 
hemmed in ter live among ’em all the time, 
most whiles this is the best company I want,” 
and he laid his hand on his rifle. 

He partly lifted it, set it down, turned and 
put a hand on each side of my face. “ But 
none the less it’s kind in ye ter take a thought 
fer old Skene Lowe, be sure I won’t forget it 
of ye, an’ the thought of it will warm my heart 
many a day when it grows heavy.” 


MY FIRST GUEST. 


179 


\A mist came before my eyes as I watched 
him stride sturdily away, and thought of the 
ruined home, the solitary years, and, saddest 
of all, the unslaked vengeance, which now that 
I had seen I understood. 


CHAPTER XVL 


AN ESCAPED CAPTIVE. 

As the days went by and nothing more was 
learned as to John Lyon’s fate, the doubt con- 
cerning it deepened into a sorrowful convic- 
tion. But at the first it seemed terrible that 
the fact of this should be accepted so calmly, 
that a life like his should go out of a, commun- 
ity and leave its surface so untroubled. And 
I knew that this was from no indifference, for 
nowhere are friendships warmer, or hearts 
knit by closer ties, or danger more quickly 
faced for the sake of another than on the 
frontier. But by and by I came to under- 
stand that in a sense they were like soldiers 
when engaged in a battle ; they had grown used 
to seeing one and another of their comrades 
fall beside them, but with the struggle still on 
there was no time for laments, they simply 
closed up the broken ranks and pressed on, as 
though none were missing. 

One, two, three weeks passed, it had been a 
day of clouded skies, and with neither sunset 
nor its after glow twilight closed gray and 
early with promise of a starless as well as 
i8o 



When out of the tall grass ... I could disting-msh a 
dark head. — Page 181. 



AN ESCAPED CAPTIVE. i8i 

moonless night. When the work after our 
simple supper had been done, as I sat down in 
the cabin door for the cooler air, I remembered 
some sassafras, for the lengthening out of our 
tea, which I had brought from the Island that 
forenoon but forgotten in the canoe. 

My first thought was that I would get Eliza- 
beth to go with me, my second that I would be 
brave enough to do that much of myself; be- 
sides the men had made an outdoor fire by 
which they were dressing a deer, looking out 
I could see my father in the group around it, 
with him within call there could be nothing 
to fear. 

I needed nothing around me, and lightly I 
ran down, past the gray palisades of the fort, 
on down the sloping bank beyond. I was going 
more slowl> now, feeling, as I always did, the 
beauty of the river, when out of the tall grass, 
a little at one side, I saw something lift. A 
little higher and against the lighter surface 
of the water I could distinguish a dark head, 
crowned with a lifted tuft of hair, and what I 
knew for feathers. Slowly as with an effort, 
the form rose, till I could see the bare arm 
and outline of the chest, there was a step or 
two and then he sank, as if on his face; pres- 
ently he struggled up, there was another stag- 


i 82 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


gering step or two, another fall ; again this was 
repeated, but this time when he went down he 
did not rise. 

Thus far sheer terror had held me motion- 
less, I seemed to have lost the power to move, 
my foot on the grass had made no sound, the 
Indian’s face had been partly turned and I was 
sure he had not seen me. But now that he 
was out of sight fear winged my feet, for I 
had roused enough to realize that this meant 
I knew not what of danger to the settlement. 
As I fled back up the path I saw Elizabeth 
coming towards me in the shadow of the fort, 
“ I saw you go by and thought I’d come and 
take a walk too. But what is it Phoebe ? What 
has happened?” as panting, unable to speak, 
I grasped her arm. 

It — it’s an Indian,” I managed at length 
to say, “ down in the high grass by the river.” 

“ Are you sure? ” 

Yes, I could see how dark he was, and his 
bare arms and shoulder.” 

She knew as well as I what the presence of 
a lurking Indian might portend. At that mo- 
ment my father from the fire-lit group looked 
over towards us and she beckoned to him. 
“ Phoebe has seen an Indian down by the 
river,” she said as he came to us. 


AN ESCAPED CAPTIVE. 


183 


“ An Indian ! 

By this time I was getting my breath. Yes, 
and he did act so strange he kept getting up 
and falling down, as though he couldn’t walk, 
and once I thought I heard him groan.” 

“ He must be sick or hurt,” exclaimed Eliza- 
beth, “ even if he is only an Indian we don’t 
want to leave him to suffer, let us go and see 
what is the matter.” 

“ No, you girls stay here and I will go and 


see. 


“ But if he means no harm why is he skulk- 
the high grass,” I asked. 



^*Y^do not know, but if he is in the condi- 
tion you say he certainly cannot do any 
harm.” 

“’But he may be shamming.” 

“ I will take my rifle in that case. Elizabeth 
you may go and tell Colonel Zane. Say nothing 
to anyone else, we do not want to raise an 
alarm unless there is cause for it.” 

As she turned away I caught his arm, 
“ Don’t go. Father,” I pleaded. 

“ You are frightened, Phoebe, or you would 
not want me to let any one lie in possible pain 
and need.” 

I knew it was useless for me to say more, 
though I could not help thinking that if it had 


1 84 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

been Elizabeth’s father I wondered if she 
would have been so willing for him to expose 
himself. My heart was still beating almost 
to suffocation, and I was trembling with fright, 
but as my father turned away I felt that any- 
thing was better than the suspense of waiting, 
at least I could see for myself, and as he 
walked down the river way, I stole unseen at 
a little distance behind him. 

By this time the Indian had crept out and 
lay, a dark length, on his face in the path. If 
he made any answer to his questions it was too 
faint to be understood, but I saw my father 
bend over, and almost lift him to his feet, I 
could see this had partially roused him, and 
that with his help he was making an effort to 
walk. I had drawn to one side and my father 
had not yet discovered me, watching them 
closely as they drew near I saw the Indian 
waver as if about to fall. Till that moment 
I had been palpitant with the fear that his 
weakness was but feigned, but now, moved by 
that impulse of pity which in our nature waits 
but the touch to expand, I ran forward to the 
other side and put my arm under his as a 
support. 

“ I thought I told you to stay behind,” said 
father briefly. 


AN ESCAPED CAPTIVE. 185 

“ Yes, but I couldn't,” was my equally brief 
reply. 

By this time it had grown too dark to dis- 
tinguish features, even had I looked into the 
dark face above me, as it was the moist sticki- 
ness of the arm I held gave me a sense of re- 
pulsion, but one more than balanced by the 
labored breathing of the chest. So half lead- 
ing half carrying our burden we toiled slowly 
up the way. As we came close to the men, still 
busy about the deer. Colonel Zane who was 
coming from his house saw us and called, 
“ Who have you there? ” 

“ An Indian- who seems to be sick or hurt,” 
answered my father. 

With that I dropped the arm I had been hold- 
ing and stepped back. The men all looked up, 
and as the light of the fire was now full on 
his face several came toward him, when sud- 
denly one threw up his hands with a cry, “ My 
God, that’s no Indian ! That’s John Lyon ! ” 

A stir of excitement instantly followed, and 
above it rang Colonel Zane’s shout, “ Mother, 
Mother, here’s something to make you happy. 
John Lyon alive in the flesh, and in a shape 
that he wants to be fed and taken care of.” 
Then, almost carried in their arrns the knot 
of men crossed and entered the wide open door 


i86 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


where as I well knew would wait all tender 
ministries. 

I was sitting waiting on the door-step when 
my father came home. “Will he die?’' was 
my first question. 

“ Die! No,” was his cheerful answer, “ He’s 
too much exhausted to give any account of 
himself yet; it’s evident he’s been among the 
Indians and escaped from them. To be sure 
he’s pretty badly used up but a few days will 
make him all right.” 

When I lit the candle I kept my face in the 
shadow and quickly climbed to my loft cham- 
ber, where in my prayers I thanked God for 
saving and restoring this noble and unselfish 
life; after which the tears which had already 
stained my eyes came again with the thought 
that he might now be lying weak, spent, per- 
haps dying, had I but had my coward way and 
kept any one from going to him. 

Not till the next day was John Lyon able 
to give an account of himself. “ He’s up 
now,” Elizabeth ran over to tell me, “ you 
must come and see him.” 

Hardly could I keep the tears back as I saw 
the tall, gaunt, figure leaning wearily back in 
Mrs. Zane’s splint-bottomed rocker, on whom 
the clothes, evidently a suit of Colonel Zane’s 


AN ESCAPED CAPTIVE. 


187 


hung loosely. His face had not yet lost the 
strange dark hue which famine and hunger 
will give to the skin, his head had been shaved 
after the Indian fashion, save for the scalp- 
lock and top knot; but his lips still smiled, and 
though there were hollows under his eyes they 
looked into mine with the same true steadiness. 

“ Come John,” said Elizabeth in her pretty 
commanding way, “You have had eighteen 
hours’ sleep to refresh you, and milk for babes, 
and strong meat for men, not to speak of a 
glass or two of hot toddy, to strengthen you; 
and now we want something more than a 
meager fact or so as to how you have spent 
this time while we thought the Indians had- 
your scalp.” 

Mrs. Zane gave him a compassionate glance. 
“ From the way he’s lost flesh I’m certain of 
this, that it’s been in no pleasant way.” 

“ Well not exactly,” he admitted. 

“ Now begin at the beginning,” urged Eliza- 
beth, “ we want to hear it all.” 

While already on the raft I had noticed how 
much more freely he talked with Elizabeth 
than myself, and it was to her that he looked 
as he told his story. 

“It was the day after I started out; my 
horse had got away, and I was walking, along 


i88 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


looking more for him I’ll own than thinking of 
any danger, for not a sign had I seen, when 
four Indians sprang out from behind the trees 
on each side of the path. My rifle missed Are, 
but I clubbed it and fought as well as I could, 
for I felt I’d rather be killed on the spot than 
taken prisoner; but they were too many for 
me, I was knocked down, partly stunned, 
dragged to a canoe and hurried across the 
river, where some half dozen more were wait- 
ing. These took their turn kicking me and 
shaking their tomahawks in my face, till I 
thought my last hour was coming then and I 
wondered why they didn’t kill me and be done 
with it, until one old Indian leered in my face 
and said, ' Burn, burn,’ and then I knew what 
I was being saved for. 

“We were about five days on the way back 
to their town. In that time there wasn’t a 
moment but I was on the watch for a chance 
to escape; and every moment they watched 
me that I shouldn’t escape, by day I marched 
fastened to an Indian, and at night I lay tied 
between two. They took good care that I 
shouldn’t get away, for while it was some sport 
to kick and pound me with clubs, that was 
nothing to what was coming. Well,” and he 
drew a hard breath, “ being roasted alive isn’t 


AN ESCAPED CAPTIVE. 


189 


the most cheerful prospect to look forward to, 
but I made up my mind if that was to be my 
fate that I would meet it as bravely and give 
them as little pleasure as I could. 

When we had reached their town and the 
old squaws saw me and found what was to be 
done with me they almost went wild with de- 
light, and they in turn came and poked their 
skinny fingers in my face and said, ‘ Burn, 
burn.’ Then they trimmed my head as you 
see, and stripped a turkey of feathers to put 
in it, I pulled out those in the scalp-lock, but 
the others they fastened in with a piece of tin 
that I couldn’t unloose; and I was painted 
black, the sign of death. And to add a little 
more to their enjoyment I was made to run 
the gauntlet. I tell you as I looked down the 
double line of those yelling demons, each with 
his big stick in his hand ready raised to give 
me a lash as I went past him I wished for my 
good rifle if I ever did. Of course I made the 
best time I could but with all that they gave 
me some marks I shall carry quite a while to 
remember them by. The evening after that 
they had a feast and howled and danced al- 
most all night, but I wasn’t sleeping much just 
then anyway so it didn’t disturb me. 

‘‘ The next morning I was led out to the burn- 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


190 

ing ground, where every one in the town had 
already gathered, fastened by thongs of green 
rawhide to the stake, the wood was piled 
around, the fire kindled; and I heard the 
flames begin to crackle, and felt the heat 
rising.” 

“ Don’t look so white, Phoebe,” exclaimed 
Elizabeth. You see he’s alive yet, they 
didn’t burn him.” 

No, as I looked at the sky for what I 
thought would be the last time, I had noticed 
that it was dark and overcast, and just as I 
was gathering all my endurance, there came 
flash after flash of lightning, with a crash of 
thunder, and the rain poured in a torrent, put- 
ting out the fire, and making it impossible to 
kindle another. A few of the Indians were 
afraid the Great Spirit was not pleased with 
what they were doing, they were only a few, 
however. But as the heavy rain kept up all 
day they all agreed they would have to wait till 
another day, so at last they unfastened me from 
the stake, and took me to an empty house where 
I was made fast to an upper log by a strong 
tug of Buffalo leather round my neck, while my 
hands were tied behind me so tightly I could 
hardly move them. 


AN ESCAPED CAPTIVE. 


191 

“ Two Indians were then set over me as 
guard to make sure I should not escape them. 
These sat up till late in the night smoking and 
asking me such pleasant questions as how I 
would like to eat nre? At last one went to 
sleep, the other smoked and talked a while 
longer, and then, as a good Providence would 
have it, he also lay down and fell asleep, to 
dream, no doubt, of the pleasure he would have 
in torturing me the next day. 

“ Then I determined to make an effort to get 
loose, and finally did get one hand free from 
the cords, but the heavy strap around my neck 
would not unloose. While I was still working 
at it one of the Indians woke, got up and 
smoked another pipe. I feared discovery but 
kept still, and after a little he yawned, lay 
down, and was soon sleeping again. Still try 
as I would I could not unfasten the strap that 
held my neck, once I even gave it up as useless, 
and resigned myself to my fate. But after 
resting awhile I decided to make one more and 
a last effort. I put my hand again to the tug, 
and, strange as it may seem, it slipped over my 
head without the least trouble. 

“ I took an old blanket that lay in a corner 
and got out and away as quietly as I could. 


192 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


About daylight I came to some Indian horses 
feeding, I managed to untie the cord from the 
other arm, which by this time was badly 
swollen, and making a bridle of it caught one; 
but in a few hours it gave out and I had to 
make the rest of the way on foot.” 

“ And what had you to eat in that time? ” 

“ Only a couple of turkey’s eggs I found, 
and a few berries and roots. I had nothing 
with me not even a knife. I was weakened 
when I started, so I got along but slowly; my 
feet too, were soon full of thorns and briars, 
and what with mosquitoes, nettles, brush, 
briars, and thorns, I felt more like a mass of 
raw flesh than anything else.” 

“ You certainly had reason to,” said Mrs. 
Zane. 

“ Some days were cloudy and I lost my bear- 
ings, and I began to think I should never live 
to get in. The last day I must have been light- 
headed. I only had the instinct that I must 
keep going, as often as I stopped that drove 
me on. When I came out at the river I hadn’t 
strength to make a raft or call across. I don’t 
believe I could have got over if it hadn’t been 
for the island. I managed to swim to that, and 
crept across it, part of the way on my hands 


AN ESCAPED CAPTIVE. 


193 


and knees. I rested awhile before I tried 
this side, that took my last bit of strength ; the 
last thing I realized was dragging myself out 
of the water till Phoebe and her father were 
helping me up the hill, and even then I couldn’t 
speak.” 

“ And now John,” interposed Mrs. Zane with 
the authority of a nurse, “ I was too anxious, 
with the girls, to hear your story to stop you, 
but you have talked enough and are getting 
tired, I will get you a bowl of broth and then 
you must rest.” 

There was a little silence as she went out. I 
was sitting with my arm leaned on the table, 
John Lyon reached over and touched my hand, 
“ And this is the hand that helped the poor In- 
dian up the hill last night.” 

Don’t give me any credit,” I exclaimed, 
“ I don’t deserve it. I must tell you I tried 
to keep Elizabeth and my father both from 
going to the poor Indian, Elizabeth was the 
one who wanted to help him.” 

“ But you were there.” 

Elizabeth laughed, “ Yes, she is so big and 
strong that she went after her father to pro- 
tect him in case the Indian had a tomahawk. 
We were like the men in the Bible, I said I 


194 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


would go, but went not; and Phoebe said she 
would not gO', but went; so the real credit is 
hers.’' 

He smiled, “ You all have been good Samari- 
tans to me, but I shall not need the oil and wine 
^ng, a day or two and I will be all right again.” 


CHAPTER XVIL 


THE FETE OF THE DAUPHIN. 

It was now well into July, the leaves of the 
corn were growing long and green, the fields 
of hemp were like close-ranked forests for 
denseness, and the grain was adding day by 
day a deeper gold. Life at the settlement had 
taken on a quieter aspect ; true every day 
scouts went out, and the men worked their 
fields with a rifle strapped to their back, but 
constant vigilance was the price of safety; the 
excitement and apprehension following the de- 
feat of Crawford and his men had in a large 
measure subsided, and while there had been 
trouble at many of the settlements around 
Wheeling had so far escaped. 

One morning as I was going down the street 
George Reikert, the blacksmith’s half-grown 
son came out of the little shop and walked along 
beside me. His sleeves were rolled up and for 
the first time I noticed a long red scar on his 
wrist. “ How did you get that ? ” I asked, for 
almost every scar on the border had its story. 

“ Oh, that,” looking at it as though it was al- 
195 


196 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

!most a badge of honor, '' is where the Injuns 
shot me when they attacked Wheeling last 
year/’ 

“ Last year ! ” I repeated, I thouglit the In- 
dians had never attacked Wheeling but once 
and that was five years ago.” 

Well this was a sort of an attack, any- 
way. ’Twas a year ago cum September, Me 
an’ two other boys had gone out for walnuts, 
they was over by the spring, near the hill, an’ I 
was quite a piece off pickin’ up walnuts, when 
I heard guns goin’ off, an’ lookin’ up I saw a 
bunch of Injuns at the spring, they’d killed 
John Ryan and taken David Glenn prisoner. 
I was so far away that I ran and got away from 
them, but just as I was going in at the fort 
gate a rifle ball struck me there.” 

‘‘ And did they attack the fort. 

“ I reckon that was what they meant to, but 
the men was ready for them in no time, they 
marched down and ordered it to surrender, but 
when they found it didn’t why they went off.” 

That same evening Colonel Zane came in, 

Burrelle,” he said, I am come to see if you 
will undertake a commission for me. As you 
know our store of powder is running low, for 
it was but little I could be spared the last time, 
and as things are now I would feel better if we 


THE FETE OF THE DAUPHIN. 197 

had a good supply on hand, the more so as some 
Indians were seen lurking around yesterday 
as if spying out our strength before they took 
the back track. I have written a letter to Gen- 
eral Irvine telling him all this and asking, I 
may say begging for powder, and undertaking 
to account for and replace all that is not burnt 
at the enemy, I have also told him that five 
militia are all the garrison we have at present, 
except the inhabitants, and that if any aid can 
be afforded it will be very acceptable, if it can- 
not, we mean, to support the place or perish in 
the attempt.” 

To this last my father gave an emphatic 
assent. 

‘‘ What I want of you,” continued Colonel 
Zane, “ is to be the bearer of this to Fort Pitt, 
and attend to bringing the powder in return. 
We will take care of Phoebe while you are 
away.” 

“ Certainly I will go,” answered my father, 
‘‘ And as for Phoebe,” with a laugh, “ unless 
Pm mistaken she spends a fair share of her 
time at your house now.” 

'' Now Father,” I protested. 

“ Never mind,” said Colonel Zane, ‘‘ it’s a 
safe place to stay.” 

His words recalled the story I had heard. 


198 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

I didn’t know till George Reikert was telling 
me to-day that the Indians made an attack on 
Wheeling last year.” 

“ You could hardly call it that, though one 
was expected. Colonel Brodhead at Fort Pitt, 
sent us word that the Indians were moving to 
attack Wheeling, to put the garrison on the 
defensive and give the alarm. We did every- 
thing possible for the safety of the place, and 
about ten days later a hundred Indians ap- 
peared, but soon withdrew. They tried to kill 
the cattle and burn the houses, as at the first 
attack, and I think that was what they really 
came for. The Indians have good memories, 
they have learned the strength of Fort Henry, 
and would rather assault weaker settlements. 
That is why I am anxious to keep strong,” he 
added, “ Wheeling stands as a defense to the 
whole frontier.” 

And September seems to have been an 
eventful month for Wheeling,” I said, “ In 
September you first saw it, and in September 
both the attacks have been made. I hope noth- 
ing will happen with this September.” 

But they had already begun talking again of 
the powder, and I doubt if they heard me. 

So I watched my father away again, this 
time in a keel-boat, that with the strong oars in 


THE FETE OF THE DAUPHIN. 


199 


the arms of the stout-armed crew made its 
way against the current up-stream. But it 
was for a brief parting and one with little of 
danger, and there was the pleasure of knowing 
that already he was one of the tried and trusted 
men of the settlement. 

The days that followed, with none of my ac- 
customed household duties, were in a sort of 
holiday. Indeed that summer dark as it was 
held its share of pleasant days, for while there 
was the ever-present sense of danger, and much 
that was sad and terrible around us, we who 
were young and light of heart could easily 
throw off the heaviness that would weigh older 
ones. A frontier neighborhood, too, stretches 
wide and I soon became acquainted with the 
young people from near-by settlements. Patty 
McColloch, Mrs. Zane’s sister, came often; 
there was Rhuanna True, from up the river, 
Moses Shepherd, whose visits were more and 
more frequent, with an attraction all could see; 
and others that concern not my story. 

When the work of the day was over we were 
apt to gather in little knots, and one of these 
evenings I especially recall. Elizabeth, Molly 
Scott, and I were sitting in the doorway of 
our cabin with John Lyon, Clark, and the 
Mills boys on the grass just outside. We had 


200 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


been watching the sunset light fade in the river 
till the pink reflection had given way to the soft 
radiance of a summer moon. Around amid the 
stumps that marked where the forest had so 
lately stood, clustered the log cabins, from 
whose open doorways I could hear the voices 
of other groups. A light shone out from one 
of the loopholes in Colonel Zane’s house; and 
still beyond rose the tall stockade pickets of the 
fort, the quaint little block-houses at the corners 
standing high and dark against the blue and 
cloudless sky. It was a little space of clearing 
and around it the forest ran, a wall of darkness 
wide and dense. A little breeze had sprung up 
after the heat of the day, and on it from far 
came the cry of a wolf, and mingled with the 
weird African melody Aunt Kate was crooning 
in her kitchen. There were times when our re- 
moteness, the sense of the minute dot -we were 
in these great forest-reaches, would come over 
me with a whelming force; it was so that eve- 
ning, the miles and miles that lay between us 
and safety and friends and civilization. 

A little silence had fallen on us all. when 
Molly exclaimed, Why are we all so stupid? 
Elizabeth what makes you so still ? ” 

“ Perhaps she is homesick for the gay life 


THE FETE OF THE DAUPHIN. 


201 


of the city,” suggested John Lyon, “ it must be 
quite a contrast to this.” 

Elizabeth lifted her head, '' A contrast, yes ; 
though life at a Quaker boarding school isn’t 
as giddy as you may think, and it was only on 
rare occasions that I had a glimpse of what you 
might call the ' gay life.’ ” 

Then you did sometimes ? ” 

“ Yes, and about a year ago, on much such a 
July night as this, I went to the finest affair 
I ever expect to see, one of the grandest enter- 
tainments ever given in Philadelphia.” 

‘‘ O tell us about it ! ” urged Molly, '' We 
like to hear of fine doings even if we are shut 
in the backwoods.” 

“ There are worse places than the back- 
woods,” growled Thomas Mills, but Molly only 
said, “ Go on Elizabeth.” 

“ It was a fete given by the French minister 
in honor of the birth of the Dauphin, the baby 
heir to the throne of France, and it was said 
nothing like it had been held since the famous 
Meschianza was given by Major Andre and 
the British officers when the British held the 
city.” 

A big fuss for a little baby, I should think ” 
was John Lyon’s comment. 


202 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


“ And he wasn’t the first white child born in 
a settlement, either.” 

“ No, but he was the son of King Louis 
XIV. and if he lives will one day be a king. 
It was an important event, when the news came 
in May. M. de Luzern, the French minister 
formally announced it to Congress. A letter 
from the king was also presented and read on 
the occasion, and on all sides the greatest in- 
terest was manifested.” 

“ I don’t like that,” Clark’s voice was sharp, 
'' I thought we were rid of kings.” 

“ But this was because every one remem- 
bered that the French were our allies, and what 
we owed them for the aid they had rendered us. 
Beyond King Louis was La Fayette, and 
Rochambeau, and the French fleet, that was 
what made the baby Dauphin an object of 
especial enthusiasm. But the pleasure became 
delight when it was known that M. de Luzern 
was going to give a great entertainment in 
honor of the event, the ‘ fete du Dauphin,’ 
Fifteen hundred guests were invited, a thou- 
sand came, and promptly on hand they were 
too', at seven and a half o’clock.” 

I suppose the men didn’t come in hunting- 
frocks and coon skin caps?” queried John 
^ Lyoil. 


THE FETE OF THE DAUPHIN. 


203 


Not exactly, they wore velvet coats, white 
satin waistcoats embroidered with gold, lace 
ruffles and cravats, and white silk stockings 
with gold knee and shoe buckles; the officers, 
of course were all in uniform.” 

‘‘ Gosh, but they were fine,” was Tom’s 
comment.” 

“ I wish you wouldn’t interrupt,” reproved 
Molly severely, “ And the ladies, how were 
they dressed ? ” 

“ There were so many, and all so elegant, 
that I can hardly tell you. One I remember, 
wore a blue silk shot with pink, with a white 
satin petticoat, a white gauze handerchief tied 
around the bodice and a gauze headdress. Some 
of the ladies wore hats of white satin trimmed 
A^ith plumes and cockades. The beautiful Mrs. 
Bingham had on a dress of black velvet with 
pink satin sleeves and stomacher, a pink satin 
petticoat, and over it a skirt of white crepe. 
But if I was to talk all night I couldn’t de- 
scribe the half.” 

Tom muttered something in which I caught 
the words “ Aunt Nabby ” and “ short-gown ” 
but no one heeded him. 

“ And the fete itself,” continued Elizabeth, 

I wish you could have seen how beautiful it 
was. The large garden around M. de Luzern’s 


204 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


house was brilliantly illuminated, and a pa- 
vilion, open to the air, built for the dancers, 
and what with the lights, the arches, the colon- 
nades, the leafy bowers, I could think of noth- 
ing but Aladdin’s palace. The dancing hall 
was elaborately ornamented and lit with hun- 
dreds of wax tapers. Four statues stood in 
four niches: Diana hurling her spear, Flora 
garlanded with flowers, Hebe holding Jove’s 
cup. Mars leaning on his shield — upon which 
was engraved the cipher .of Washington. The 
entertainment began with a concert.” 

Clark lifted his hand, “ Listen ! ” the cry of 
the wolves had come nearer and tO' it was added 
a panther’s higher note, “ we are having our 
concert, a little louder than usual to-night.” 

Have the cattle and sheep all been brought 
in ? ” asked Molly. 

“ Yes, everything is safe from them unless 
it be a stray hog or so. But go on.” 

“ After the concert was a display of fire- 
works, very fine. Then the ball was formally 
opened, and at one o’clock supper was served.” 

At one o’clock ! ” cried Molly, you don’t 
mean that they had to wait till that time for 
their supper ? ” 

“ Yes, thirty army cooks were engaged to 


THE FETE OF THE DAUPHIN. 


205 


prepare it, and as they .were all French cooks 
you may be sure it was of the best.” 

“ I don’t believe it tasted any better than a 
venison steak broiled over the coals does after 
an all day’s hunt,” said John Lyon. 

“And was Washington there?” I asked. 

“Yes, the noblest figure of them all; with 
him were Robert Morris, Marquis de Chastel- 
lux, and a host of distinguished men. And 
that those who were not invited might also see, 
M. de Luzern had the brick wall around his 
garden thrown down and an apartment built 
for the Quaker ladies whose principles would 
not allow them to join the ball where they 
watched the dancers through a gauze curtain.” 

I do not know how it had affected the 
others, but listening there had seemed to mingle 
before me the brilliantly lighted garden, the 
stump-dotted clearing; the gay company; the 
lonely forest; the music of the violins with the 
light fall of satin-shod feet, and the howl of 
the wolves ravening for their prey. 

“ I had forgotten to say,” added Elizabeth, 
“ that an Indian chief or two were also 
present.” 

“ I trust without their tomahawks,” John 
Lyon was saying; when across his words came 


2o6 


THE FETE OF THE DAUPHIN. 


the sound of hurried hoof-beats. A rider drew 
up before Colonel Zane’s door, a moment and 
there came a woman’s sharp cry, and the shout. 
Major McColloch has been killed by the 
Indians ! ” 


CHAPTER XVIIL 


ELIZABETH AND THE PANTHER. 

It was indeed too true, and like many an- 
other brave life that went out during those 
dark and bloody years his was given a sacrifice 
for others, for it was while scouting to assure 
the safety of his settlement that he was shot 
from an ambush. Even in death his foes paid 
savage tribute to the courage and daring which 
had made his name one to be feared on the 
Ohio border. When his body was brought in 
the heart was found to be gone, and later it 
was learned that in the belief of its possessing 
a magic virtue the Indians had taken and eaten 
it, that they might be “ bold like Major 
McColloch.” 

This summer of 1782, was long remembered 
by the frontier settlements as one alike fatal and 
trying. While the heart of the nation was glad 
with the expectation of speedy peace, on the 
western slopes of the Alleghanies, and amid the 
forests of the Kentucky and Virginia border 
it was a strife against danger and death. I 
shall not repeat the stories I was so often forced 
207 


2o8 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


to listen to, of burned and ruined homes, of 
children killed before the eyes of parents, and 
parents of children, of massacre and pillage; 
they made my blood run cold then and chill it 
even now when years lie between. 

But with all this around us Wheeling re- 
mained undisturbed. We felt an added sense 
of security when the powder came and we saw 
it, keg by keg, carried up and stored in the 
stout magazine; no precaution for safety was 
relaxed, daily scouts watched every avenue of 
approach, but as the weeks went by more and 
more were our apprehensions lulled. 

So despite all there remained much to enjoy, 
Elizabeth reveled in her open life, and with it 
the flush on her cheek deepened, the light in 
her dark eyes grew brighter, and to me it 
seemed that daily she bloomed into fresher 
loveliness. “ Isn’t Elizabeth beautiful ? ” I 
asked Lydia Boggs one day as we watched her 

t>y- 

'' I can’t see that she looks better than other 
girls,” was the curt answer. “ If some of the 
rest of us had rich folks to send us to board- 
ing school and dress up in fine feathers perhaps 
we’d be fine birds too.” 

I looked after Elizabeth in her home-spun 
gown of blue and white striped linen, with a 


ELIZABETH AND THE PANTHER. 209 

rye vStraw hat of her own braiding, “ I’m sure 
you can’t accuse her of being dressed fine now.” 

“ But she has fine clothes all the same, you 
know that. Catharine Zane says she has a 
tabby velvet pelerine, and a cream brocade 
dress, with white satin slippers. No doubt 
she’ll come out in them some day to dazzle the 
eyes of all the young men.” And this time 
there was no mistaking the spitefulness of her 
accent. 

“ Why does Lydia dislike Elizabeth so ? ” I 
asked Molly Scott a little later. “ I don’t see 
how any one can help loving her.” 

“ That’s because you love her yourself,” an- 
swered Molly, “ But I can see easy enough why 
Lydia doesn’t. For one thing Betty Zane has a 
far better education than any one here, and 
while she’s as wild as any of us there’s still a 
difference we can feel. Besides Lydia thought 
she was the belle of Wheeling before Eliza- 
beth came, and she doesn’t take it kindly to 
hear her called handsomer; and more than all 
is that Clark and Moses Shepherd are both in 
love with her, and Lydia had been counting 
them both as strings to her bow.” 

‘‘ But I don’t think Elizabeth cares for them.” 

“ That makes no difference to Lydia, they 
do for Elizabeth. She may catch one or the 


210 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


other in the rebound, but it’s the first choice 
Lydia wants, and mark my words, she’ll never 
as long as she lives forgive Elizabeth Zane for 
having had that, or for being the prettier.” 

Such jealousy puzzled me, I could not blame 
any young man for preferring Elizabeth, I 
was in lov€ with her myself; and while Mr. 
Clark and Moses Shepherd were in every way 
worthy, there was one still handsomer and 
more manly, and in my mind there was no 
doubt when she did come to make a choice on 
whom it would fall, and to my heart I said that 
Elizabeth was worthy of the best. 

I had reason for saying that I thought Eliza- 
beth’s admirers made little impression on her. 
A few days before I had called her a coquette.” 

“ What is that ? ” she had asked, “ One of 
the deadly sins? I thought by your tone it 
must be.” 

“ I’m not so sure,” I had made answer, 
Think of the number you have already sigh- 
ing out their hearts for you. There’s Clark 
and Shepherd and ” 

“ Spare me the list, and not one on it is 
sighing away his heart a single whit. ’Tis a 
sad thing,” and she tapped her slim foot as she 
had a way of doing, ‘‘ that a maid must always 
have the young men dinned in her ears, even by 


ELIZABETH AND THE PANTHER. 


211 


a Phoebe-bird, as if forsooth the earth held 
nothing else for her. Doubtless sometime I 
shall go the way women have since Eve and 
then look after the spinning and weaving, and 
have a mind to butter and cheese, and give 
thought to the curing of meat and the cook- 
ing of dinners but trust me that day is not yet. 
Besides this is the summer, and you know, 

‘ In th'e springtime, the only pretty ring time, 

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding.’ 

“ But Aunt Nabby says ” 

“ I care not for what she says, an old woman 
may count it her pleasure to sweep a floor and 
‘ red up ’ a house, but not a girl who loves her 
freedom best of all,” and with a wag of her 
head she pursed up her lips and sang, 

“ I’ll take my horse, an’ take my gun, 

One may go and another may come, 

But as long as I have my horse and gun 
What care I for any one.” 

And whatever the future might hold it was 
clear to me that for the present Elizabeth was 
in too wild a mood to care greatly for either 
love or lovers. 

One of her mad-cap pranks I had good 
reason afterwards to recall. It was at the close 


212 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


of the day and the men and boys of the settle- 
ment were trying their speed in foot-races, — 
nor were the favorite border pastimes, shoot- 
ing at the mark, wrestling, foot-races, for 
sport alone, a sure aim, a strong arm, a fleet 
foot, not seldom meant life and safety. As 
they were forming in line to start Elizabeth 
and I came up from an afternoon in the woods. 

Here,” she called, “ I want to run too,” and 
tossing her hat to me, and holding her skirt up 
from her moccasined feet she took her place 
beside the others. 

“ One, two three, and away,” was the word, 
and off they went, with bodies bent well for- 
ward, and every muscle taut. It was a pretty 
sight to see Elizabeth skimming the ground, 
and Daddy Sam, who had been with us hi, 
hi’d with pleasure. Of course she could not 
hope to out-distance the men but she kept well 
up to them. 

“ Well done, Betty,” said Colonel Zane, as 
they came laughing and panting back, “ very 
v/ell done for a girl.” 

“ I wasn’t so far behind, was I ? I didn’t 
expect to win, when here was Lewis Wetzel 
who can outrun even an Indian.” 

He grinned, ‘‘There’s one I can’t beat,” 
nodding to Colonel Zane, “ there ain’t many 


ELIZABETH AND THE PANTHER. 213 

can outshoot, an’ I never saw the man yet, white 
er red who could outrun him.” 

“ Well Lew,” some one asked, “ Showed 
your heels to any Injuns since we see you? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ How’d that happen ? ” 

“ I met a young man from over on Dunk- 
ard’s creek an’ went home with him and by 
gum, the Injuns hed cleaned the hull place out, 
except one girl, that we see by their tracks 
they’d taken away with ’em. He was expectin’ 
to marry her too.” 

“ What did you do then ? ” 

“ Followed ’em.” 

Find ’em?” 

“ Yes over by Capitina Creek, the girl, three 
Indians, an’ one renegade white man.” 

“ Did you get the girl ? ” 

“ Yes, we did that.” 

“ And what about the others ? ” 

“ He took the white man, an’ I tended to the 
Injuns. I could only hit one, the first shot, an’ 
the other two thought they’d chase me ; but they 
didn’t chase fer,” and with a grim smile he 
looked down the muzzle of his rifle. 

For although Wetzel came and went at the 
settlement, he had already begun that strange 
and life-long life of the woods, hunter, ranger. 


214 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


and especially as the Indian fighter, whose ad- 
ventures have made him a noted figure in all 
the annals of the border. 

It was not long after this that Elizabeth and 
I started up the river for a day’s visit at the 
home of Rhuanna True, some miles distant. 
The way had been pronounced safe, at least for 
the time, and in addition Elizabeth was pro- 
vided with the light rifle she always carried now 
when on horseback. She was a graceful as well 
as fearless rider, it was an exercise I enjoyed, 
and we cantered gaily on our way which fol- 
lowed the windings of the river, the broad cur- 
rent just ruffled by the wind on one side, with 
its bordering trees shading us from the August 
sun on the other. 

We had passed perhaps half the distance and 
were riding side by side chatting merrily the 
while, when something, I hardly know what 
drew my attention to a great oak that stood 
between the road and the river. As I glanced 
upward I gave a start that checked my horse, 
for there on an overhanging limb, directly be- 
fore us, crouched as if ready for a spring, was 
a lithe, tawny shape, with gleaming eyes. “ A 
panther, a panther,” I tried to cry, but my 
voice sounded far off and weak. But Eliza- 



An instant more and there was a flash, the sharp crack 

of the rifle. — Page 21 5. 



ELIZABETH AND THE PANTHER, 215 

beth’s eyes following mine had already seen 
it. 

“ What can we do ? ” I asked faintly, “ Shall 
we run ? 

“ No, hold still, if we move it may jump,” 
she answered quietly. 

I do not know as I could have moved had 
my life depended on it, I seemed paralysed 
with fright, my eyes fastened on the panther, 
his tail was slightly moving, the hair had lifted 
along his back, his eyes blazed like balls of 
fire, and under the fur I could see the muscles 
twitching, the claws extended, as if eager to 
fasten in us. But while I saw all this, at the 
same time I was aware that Elizabeth had un- 
slung her rifle, and with a steady hand was 
coolly taking aim. An instant more and there 
was a flash, the sharp crack of the rifle; a 
snarling cry, a crash in the limbs above us, half 
seen through the smoke of the powder a tawny 
quivering bulk fell through the air, my horse 
swerved, reared, and by the time I had him 
in hand the panther was stretched dead beside 
us. 

'' Shall — shall we go back ? ” I gasped. 

Elizabeth had calmed her frightened horse, 
and her only sign of excitement was the flash 


2i6 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


of her eye. “ Go back, no,” she answered, I 
might possibly turn for a live panther but cer- 
tainly not for a dead one.” 

As we returned just at evening, the panther 
lay where it had fallen, and we paused to note 
more closely than we had done its cruel fangs, 
its strong claws, and the beauty of its tawny 
fur. 

When she had reached home, as she sprang 
from her horse and gave the bridle to Daddy 
Sam, she turned to her brothers with the re- 
mark, casually made, Do you know I would 
like a panther-skin rug.” 

“ All right,” responded her brother Andrew 
in an indulgent tone, “the next one I kill you 
shall have.” 

“ But I want one now.” 

“ Where will you get it,” asked Colonel 
Zane, just returned, as his dress showed from 
a day’s hunting. 

“ I saw a dead one by the side of the road 
as we came back, one with a bullet hole in its 
head just about the size of my rifle.” 

“ Betty, what do you mean? ” 

“ She means that she killed the panther,” I 
cried no longer able to keep silence, and in 
hurried words I told the story. 

“ And you all thought I couldn’t shoot, that 


ELIZABETH AND THE PANTHER. 217 

is not to amount to anything,” Elizabeth ex- 
claimed exultantly, “ You see there are other 
Zane’s who can hit what they aim at.” 

“We see,” and Colonel Zane patted her 
shoulder,” we are very proud of the marks- 
manship of our sister, and to-morrow we will 
go out and bring in her game.” 

He kept his word, the next morning Eliza- 
beth’s brothers went out and brought in her 
trophy, and all Wheeling came to see the pan- 
ther that Betty Zane had shot. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A WYANDOTTE CHIEF. 

August and harvests were just ended when 
one day Elizabeth and I took a canoe and pad- 
died over to the Island. I think there was a 
pretense of bringing back some melons, but 
our real reason was our delight in the island 
itself, which had already made it a favorite 
spot, with its fringing trees, the clear current 
of the beautiful river flowing on either side, and 
the view of the wooded hills sweeping up and 
away beyond. 

We had made our trip to the melon field and 
coming back had sat down under a clump of 
shading trees. It was, I mind, a sunny day, 
still and peaceful, the river ran with a gentle 
murmur, and the leaves of the tall and close- 
ranked cornfield just behind us rustled lightly 
in the faint breeze. Elizabeth had thrown her- 
self on the warm grass beside me but suddenly 
she sat upright, “ What is it ” I asked. 

“ I thought I heard something.” To glance 
about with apprehension was become a habit, 
218 


A WYANDOTTE CHIEF. 


219 


but there was nothing in sight, and even the 
fields seemed to hold a promise of calm. 

“ I guess it was only the wind in the corn.^’ 

“ It must have been.” 

“ How still the day is,” I said presently, “ I 
cannot hear a sound.” Almost as I spoke, look- 
ing over my shoulder, I gave a sharp cry. 
There had not been a footfall, the rustle of a 
leaf, but almost at our side stood an Indian, 
grave, impassive. His moccasins and leggins 
were thickly embroidered with porcupine quills, 
the eagle feathers in his hair implied his dig- 
nity. He wore something like a sleeveless 
hunting-frock, open at the throat, and the mus- 
cles of his chest, as also the arm which grasped 
his rifle spoke of sinewy strength. 

By a common impulse we both sprang to our 
feet, while the Indian taking a step nearer laid 
his hand on Elizabeth’s arm, “ Have no fear, 
my white sister,” he said speaking in good Eng- 
lish, “ I mean you no harm.” 

My heart was fluttering wildly, and it was 
not strange with all the stories of Indian cap- 
tures I had heard, at the same time as I looked 
in his face something in his clear dark eye, 
and noble expression inspired me with con- 
fidence. “ I saw you come over from the 
town,” he said, “ do you know Colonel Zane? ” 


220 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


“Know Colonel Zane?” Elizabeth smiled 
slightly, “ I am one of his family, he is my 
brother.’’ 

As she spoke the Indian stepped still closer, 
his hand tightened on her arm, and he looked 
in her face with an intensity of expression that 
frightened me, “ His sister,” he repeated, 
“ Ebenezer Zane your brother. He is my 
brother also.” 

Elizabeth gave a half articulate sound. 

“ The Wyandottes know me by another 
name, but to the white men I am Isaac Zane.” 

As he spoke, for all his shaven head, with 
its scalp-lock and feather-decked top knot, for 
all the difference of manner and habit and 
dress, the skin darkened by exposure, the re- 
semblance was plain to me. 

Elizabeth had caught his hand, “ My brother 
Isaac! Oh I have thought of you so often, 
and wondered if I should ever see you.” 

I think he hardly heard her, his face was 
working, he dropped his rifle on the grass and 
lifting his free hand touched with it lightly her 
hair, her cheek, “ My little sister,” he said 
and his voice was strangely softened almost 
tremulous, “ the little Betty whom I never saw 
before. The baby sister who came to the home 
I was taken from, and was rocked in the cradle 


A WYANDOTTE CHIEF. 


221 


where I once lay, and laid in the arms of the 
mother who had held me; my brothers have told 
me of her, of her step as light as a fawn’s, and 
her eyes as bright as the stars, and their words 
were true.” 

“ And will you not go with me back to the 
settlement? your brothers will bid you wel- 
come.” 

He shook his head, “ My ears to-day cannot 
hear their words. But their hearts are brave 
and true and the words they speak are good, 
and for them I have walked many miles and 
braved danger to come. Since the sky was red 
with light this morning I have lain among the 
corn waiting for some one to come that I might 
send a message, a warning, to my brother.” 

“ A warning! ” repeated Elizabeth. 

“ Yes, give him this message, the word has 
gone out to the young men of the Shawnees and 
Delawares to have their shoes in readiness to 
join the warriors; bid him keep watch of the 
warrior paths. Once before I sent them 
warning.” 

She nodded, “ Yes, I have been told.” 

He drew himself up, “ once again I send it. 
It is well.” 

Elizabeth sighed, “ It is so dreadful, these 
massacres, this cruelty, the bloodshed. Will 


222 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


there never be peace between the red man and 
the white? ” 

“ I cannot tell. I ask here,” and he struck 
himself on his breast, “ I ask the old men, I 
ask the Great Spirit, but there comes no answer. 
This I do know had all white men been like 
my brothers, just to the red man, true to their 
wo'rd, honest and kind to him, the pipe of peace 
need not have been laid aside, or the words of 
the English have sharpened the edge of the 
tomahawk.” 

Elizabeth had been looking earnestly at him 
suddenly she spoke, ‘‘ O my brother, why did 
you never come back to us ? ” and her tone 
held a shade of reproach as well as regret, 
“ Your mother who loved you, died holding a 
life-long sorrow for the son who loved the red 
man best.” 

A deep flush stained his bronzed cheek, and 
he straightened himself as with wounded dig- 
nity, Listen my sister,” he said, gravely, “ I 
was but a boy of nine when I was taken captive. 
For years I never even saw a white face or 
heard a word of my own tongue. The old 
chief, with whom I grew up, was like a 
father to me, the Indian boys were my play- 
mates, I learned what they learned, to shoot, 
to hunt, to fish : Is it then any wonder that the 


A WYANDOTTE CHIEF. 


223 


wigwam became my home; the ways of the 
red man my ways; the life of the forest my 
life?’’ 

“ But now, O Isaac, my brother,” her hand 
had again closed on his, her voice was full of 
entreaty, “ we speak the same tongue, we have 
the same blood, we are of one family, come 
back to us ! ” 

He shook his head, “ It is too late. Among 
the Wyandottes Scanonie is a chief, his voice 
is heard in his tribe, he sits at the council fire, 
he speaks and even the old men listen, he is 
like a tree of the forest : among his own people 
Isaac Zane would be as a corn stalk that none 
would see, his voice as the rustle of a leaf that 
none would hear. Besides the ways of the 
white man are no longer mine. I have seen, 
he builds houses, and ploughs the ground, he 
makes shoes and coats, he beats out iron into 
chains and axes. Which of these can I do? 
Not one. I can make a bow or an arrow, catch 
fish, kill game, and go to war, but none of these 
is of any use here,” and he motioned in the 
direction of the settlement. “To learn what 
my brothers know, to do what they do, would 
take many moons of my life. ’’ 

A moment he paused, “ And more still, the 
wife who sits in my wigwam is a daughter of 


234 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


the Wyandottes, the daughter and sister of its 
chiefs. She is my wife, I shall never forsake 
her, I took her by the hand before her people 
and I said, ‘ We now marry each other for life, 
before all the friends now here assembled, by 
the command of the Great Spirit, who has 
united our hearts in one.’ After that would 
you ask me to forsake her ? ” 

“No, I would not ask you to be untrue to 
her, but would she not come with you? we 
would be kind to her.” 

He made a motion of dissent, “ Your ways 
are not her ways, she would pine and fade and 
die, and her people would blame me for her 
death. ' But,” and he threw up his head proudly, 
“ though I love the life of the forest I have 
never forgotten, I never shall forget that my 
blood is the blood of the white man. I am no 
enemy of my people, no finger of shame points 
at me, as at the Girty’s; the stain of no white 
man’s blood is on my. hand. Instead more than 
once have I kept harm from them, and stood 
between them and massacre, and sent warnings 
to the settlements; nor did a white man ever 
come to my wigwam without finding there a 
friend in Isaac Zane, nor ever will, for I teach 
my children that the white man is their kin- 
dred.” 


A WYANDOTTE CHIEF. 


22 $ 


Elizabeth stood silent a moment before she 
spoke. “ That is well, my brother, but do 
you not know that this country is to be the 
white man’s? It has been so since his foot 
first pressed this soil, what he has gained step 
by step, that he has kept, and without fail it 
will be so here. All this,” and she swept the 
horizon with a circle of her hand, “ is to be a 
country great and rich and free, and will you 
shut yourself out from having part in it ? ” 
For a little space he stood silent with folded 
arms, then lifting his head he spoke, with 
something of sadness in both voice and mien, 
“ My sister, the words you speak are true, I 
have long felt them in my heart. The white 
man plants his foot on the hunting ground of 
the red man and the forests fade before his 
breath; struggle as he may the Indian is pressed 
farther and farther toward the setting sun. 
From a boy these forests have been my home, I 
have paddled my canoe in their rivers, I have 
tracked the deer over their hills : I have no war 
with my own people, I have listened to no lips 
that would set me against my country. What 
is in my heart my lips shall speak; the Wyan- 
dottes have adopted me, I am their son, I will 
not desert them, but when the white man comes 
neither will I run from him, like the deer be- 


226 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


fore the hunter, where my home is there shall 
my life be. I have spoken.” 

She made no farther effort to urge him. 
“ My brother has spoken well,” she said with 
a smile, “ I am glad to hear his words, for now 
I know that his dwelling will be near us, and 
with that his heart will come closer to his own 
people. I am glad, glad to have seen my 
brother.” 

“ And always will I count the day good in 
which I saw my sister; whose coming to me 
has been like that of Sigwan to the earth.” 
Then seeing that Elizabeth did not understand 
his allusion he added, But you do not know 
of the four sisters who rule the four seasons of 
the year, Bi-bon (winter) who brings down 
from the north the snow and with her chilly 
fingers touches the lakes and streams, leaving 
them ice-bound until her. sister Sig-wan 
(spring), comes; she with her warm breath 
melts the snow and ice, sets free the imprisoned 
streams, clothes the trees with green, the earth 
with flowers, fills the air with the music of 
song birds, and works with might and main, 
till the arrival of her sister Ne-bin (summer), 
on hasty wings to help on the work she has so 
well begun; her hands are full of gifts, but 
man and fowls seek the shade to escape the 


A WYANDOTTE CHIEF. 


227 


scorching sunshine of her face. Last of all the 
oldest sister, Baw-wan-gi (autumn), comes to 
ripen all the fruits, and grains, and nuts, and 
paint the forest leaves for their fall, before the 
winter storms. 

“ So tell our people and to me you are as 
Sig-wan, with the song in her heart and the 
sunshine in her face.” 

The afternoon was drawing late, already a 
light mist was rising from the river, and the 
folds of the hills were gathering shadows. He 
lifted his head, I hear the coming of the night- 
wind, when the sun rises I must be far away. 
Remember my message, tell my brothers to 
watch well the war paths.” 

He took both her hands in his, bent and 
kissed her cheek, and with a step so light and 
noiseless that not a leaf rustled or twig cracked, 
glided away, erect, impassive, his head crowned 
with the eagle feathers and his rifle held against 
his bare and brawny arm. A few moments 
more and we heard the dip of paddles as his 
canoe swung out from its hiding place into 
the river. 

When we told Colonel Zane of the message 
he looked grave. “ Isaac would never have 
warned us had he not thought there was rea- 
son, we will give it good heed.” 


228 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


“ When did Isaac first come to see his own 
family ? ” asked Elizabeth. 

“Not till he was grown and married. He 

with his wife and several Indians of the tribe 

came to Van Meter’s trading post, and Van 

Meter, knowing his story, tried to have him 

visit his own people. At first he refused to 

consent because his wife didn’t want to go, but 

finally one night she promised she would go 

the next morning. In the morning she was 

gone, had stolen away in the night. Even then 

he would not leave the camp until he had first 

made a circle of twigs and standing in the 

center made many signs, talking to himself 

all the while. When he had finished this he 

said that his wife would return to her home 

after many days, but that her feet would be 

very tired. Then he and the Indians with him 

went and spent several days with his people 

before returning home. In his heart Isaac is 

a white man, but in habit and custom he is 

what those long years in that wigwam have 

made him, and can we wonder ? ” 

> 


CHAPTER XXL 


WILD PLUMS. 

Isaac Zane^'s warning was heeded, careful 
watch was kept on all the paths by which the 
war parties of the Indians were wont to come ; 
but the days went by, a week and more, and 
the serenity of the settlement remained undis- 
turbed, and not a sign of an Indian was to be 
seen, except the few friendly Indians who made 
occasional visits usually to beg, or to trade 
baskets, berries, or game, bread being the fa- 
vorite article in exchange. 

I did not soon forget the first call of that 
nature I had. I had just set a row of crisp, 
freshly baked loaves on the table, and was re- 
garding my handiwork with a certain pride, 
when I heard a sound and turning saw an 
Indian and squaw inside the door, the latter 
with several fish, strung on a willow bark, in 
her hand which with a few words of English 
and motions she made me understand she 
wanted to exchange for a loaf of bread. 

I did not dare to refuse her request, and 
taking a loaf handed it to her, holding out 
229 


230 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


my hand for the fish. But no sooner had she 
the bread than she snatched back the fish, and 
holding both tightly, with a hideous leer in 
my face started to make off with both. But 
at that moment there was a little whirlwind at 
the opposite door, a fiutter of blue crossed the 
floor and Elizabeth had caught the squaw by 
the arm and was shaking her vigorously. Put 
down those fish,” she commanded, Drop 
them, bad woman, thief, drop them this min- 
ute.” The old squaw startled by her sudden 
appearance with a half frightened look obeyed. 
“ Now go,” and she pointed to the door, “ and 
don’t you dare to try to come stealing again.” 

The Indian had been leaning in the doorway, 
his face perfectly stolid, but evidently well 
enough pleased at his wife’s sharpness; now 
he gave a grunt as if of amusement, “ Uhe, 
white squaw scare Injun squaw,” and with a 
grin he turned away followed by his discom- 
fited wife. 

“ I saw them coming here,” explained Eliza- 
beth, “ and knew you’d be frightened, so I ran 
over. But that old squaw did look so 
ashamed,” and she dropped into a chair shak- 
ing with laughter. “ Here,” swinging them 
by the bark, “ take your fish, the Indian’s bar- 
gain wasn’t as good as they thought after all.” 


WILD PLUMS. 


231 


Bound by ties of mutual helpfulness and 
mutual danger the settlement was almost like 
one great family, and as I have said when the 
day’s work was done there was almost nightly 
a grouping at common gathering places. Of 
these Colonel Zane’s was one, and as a little 
knot sat about its door one early twilight John 
Lyon came up, and reaching into the breast of 
his hunting-frock drew out several handfuls 
of wild plums which he tossed into our laps. 

“ Wild plums,” exclaimed Mrs. Zane, “ I 
was thinking only to-day that they must be 
ripe. If any one will bring me some they shall 
have their pay in plum preserves, next winter.” 

“ Oh yes,” cried Elizabeth, “ wild plum pre- 
serves sweetened with maple sugar, how I used 
to like them when I was a little girl and how 
good some would taste again.” 

You said sweetened with maple sugar,” 
said Kate Zane, “ what else would you make 
them with ? ” 

Elizabeth laughed and pinched her ear, “ I 
forgot that you didn’t know any other kind of 
sugar.” 

I do too. There’s a loaf of white sugar 
in blue paper up in the cupboard that Father 
brought from Philadelphia, but of course we 
don’t use that to cook with.” 


232 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


Yes maple sugar is good enough for that/^ 

“ Mrs. Zane’s offer is too good not to 15e 
shared,” suggested John Lyon, “ There’s lots 
of plums where these came from, down beyond 
the Beech Bottoms, the trees there are just red 
with them, why can’t we all go and get some,” 
and he gave a wave of his hand which included 
the group. 

“ The very thing,” said Clark, who had a 
way of hovering in Elizabeth’s vicinity. 

And to this we all agreed, the idea chimed 
in exactly with our mood. For one thing those 
early September days held the mellow autumn 
warmth which of itself made the out-of-doors 
a delight; besides youth is elastic, and as I 
look back I think that perhaps for the very 
dangers , and hardships around us we entered 
into any pleasure with the greater zest. Our 
arrangements were quickly made, we, were to 
start in the morning, and have a day of merry- 
making as well as fruit gathering. 

So the next morning we were away while the 
air still held the cool freshness that set our 
blood a tingle; Elizabeth, Patty McColloch, 
Molly Scott and myself; and for the young 
men Clark, Lyon, Edward Mills and one of 
the Wheat boys : with a lunch that Mrs. Zane 


WILD PLUMS. 


233 


had packed in a splint basket, such as the In- 
dians made, at John Lyon’s saddle bow. I 
mind how light my heart was that day, the first 
strangeness had worn away and I was growing 
at home in my new surroundings, more than 
that I was finding a sense of freedom in the 
very air, a noble simplicity in the people and 
their life that grew upon me rnore and more. 

My father stood by and watched us away. 
As we started Elizabeth shook her switch whip 
at him, “ Sergeant Burrelle, if you were with 
us I would challenge you to a race.” 

“ Give me the challenge,” said Clark. 

“ I challenge you all,” she cried. And with a 
“ Keep beside me, Phoebe,” off she went. A 
more fearless rider I have never seen, and the 
grace of her slender figure never showed better 
than when on her spirited horse while as she 
glanced back towards us, with her arch face and 
dancing eyes she was, I owned, bewitching. 

It was a gay dash, and at its end John Lyon 
was riding beside her. He was wearing that 
day a new hunting-frock of deer skin, with 
fringes and sash of blue. And while it was a 
garment that after being wet might be stif- 
fened to decided discomfort, I remember think- 
ing that with its color of soft yellow buff, and 


234 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


its pliable texture fitting every line of the figure, 
a fine form could hardly have a more becoming 
costume. 

And after the race was over it was still a 
merry company that cantered down the level 
stretch of the river way. The trees were for 
the most part in full leaf though by times our 
horses’ feet rustled in the early fallen leaves: 
and though the branches above us still in large 
measure held their greenness the syca- 
mores were showing golden shades, and up the 
hills clumps of scarlet and yellow were fore- 
telling what a little later would be a blaze of 
splendor. 

And the Beech Bottoms, how can I describe 
them, their grandeur, their softness, their so- 
lemnity, the ever opening vistas of park-like 
smoothness, the great tree pillars of delicate 
green gray spotted with silver, and over us 
the wide stretched branches, already deepening 
into golden russet through which the sun- 
shine filtered in a golden rain. At the edge 
of the Beech Bottoms we found the plum trees, 
whose roots often love the shelter of a light 
strip of woodland. And almost thicket like 
were the slender spreading branches, with 
thorny boughs interlaced, the smooth, thick 
bronze-green bark showing through the leaves. 


WILD PLUMS. 


235 


and all the branches bending with the weight of 
orange and crimson fruit, that in the sunshine, 
with its almost transparent brightness seemed 
glowing as from a hidden translucent fire. And 
a very jewel of a fruit, holding under its acrid 
skin not only a pleasant flavor but a very 
wealth of beauty. 

How lovely,” I cried, as we paused before 
them. “ They are too pretty to pick.” 

Molly laughed, “ Now I was just going to 
say that they looked good enough to eat.” 

“ And if we kept them just to look at,” added 
John Lyon, “ I’m afraid we’d have nO' plum 
sauce with our wild turkey next winter.” 

That settles the fate of the plums,” an- 
nounced Elizabeth. 

So in due time the plum trees were rifled of 
their fruit, at least enough to fill the bags that 
had been brought for that purpose, while Molly 
gathered a quantity of the long spiney thorns, 
“ for,” she explained to me, “ if you dip their 
heads in sealing-wax they make very good 
pins.” 

While we were thus engaged, the young men 
climbing the trees, and we girls gathering up 
the fruit they showered around us, John Lyon 
went over to a creek that came down at no 
great distance, and presently returned with 


236 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


several trout. “ These are for our dinner,” and 
he held them up. “ I brought a fish-hook and 
line on purpose in my pocket. Make a fire, 
Clark while Ed and I dress these, and we’ll 
show Elizabeth and Phoebe how the Indians 
cook fish.” 

To gather some dry twigs was the work of 
a few moments, and with the help of flint and 
tinder there was soon a bright blaze. While 
this was being done young Wheat had brought 
smooth stones from the river, these were heated 
in the fire, and having first wrapped the fish 
in leaves, they were laid on the stones and 
covered over with hot coals and ashes. 

It was no doubt the mood more than the 
food which gave the flavor, as we sat on the 
grass under the sheltering beeches, for the 
meal of itself was simple enough; corn bread, 
doughnuts, sweet biscuit, strips of jerked veni- 
son, and the fish. But we brought to it the 
finest of flavors, a healthy appetite, and the taste 
of those who live simply. So with laughter 
and careless jesting we gathered around the 
fire in the shadow of the beeches, with the mu- 
sical rush of the river in our ears. And the 
happiness was as simple as the food, yet the 
hour holds a brightness of its own as I look 


WILD PLUMS. 


237 


back to it, and it may be seems the brighter 
for the days that so soon followed. 

But even in that hour of peace and seeming 
security the young men kept their rifles close 
at hand, and their ears, grown alert with long 
watchfulness, I noticed were listening to every 
unusual sound. But no alarm marred the day, 
indeed it seemed hard to realize the possibility 
of an alarm in that calm of earth and sky. 

The sun was near to setting and its rays lay 
long and level as we rode homeward, more 
soberly now, for the fruity burden at the back 
of the saddles would ill bear wild riding, and 
mayhap our spirits were less wild than in the 
morning. As we started it chanced that I 
found myself beside John Lyon, but as always 
when with me his words were few, nor could I 
blame him, for I, too, was sadly tongue tied 
then, and seeing by his glances at Elizabeth, 
who was before us, where he would fain be I 
made an excuse to fall back by Patty McCol- 
loch, who I knew cared naught for young 
Wheat, he being but one of the younger boys, 
and so would not mind if I made a third with 
them. 

So Elizabeth rode on with Lyon and Clark 
on either side, and as her light laugh came 


238 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


floating back I knew how her black eyes were 
flashing and the saucy curve there was to her 
lips, and I counted it not strange that it were a 
pleasure to ride at her bridle rein. 

When we had reached the settlement and 
were parting I heard John Lyon say “ I am 
going out scouting to-morrow morning, “ and 
someone else responded, “ Keep your eyes out 
for Indians.^^ 

This had been a favorite injunction ever 
since his capture and escape, and he answered 
gaily, “ I will that.^’ 

Daddy Sam was waiting to take our horses, 
as I was turning away Elizabeth caught me by 
the shoulders, “ What a silly Phoebe-bird it is,’' 
looking into mine with her laughing eyes. 

‘‘And why?” 

“ Never mind now. Go on,” and she gave 
me a little push. 

But I had little time to give to her words for 
there was supper to be made ready for my 
father, who had come in greatly pleased with 
the goodly look of an outlying field. And after 
the meal was over I heard him whistling 
cheerily as he went toward the blacksmith shop, 
dragging after him a heavy log-chain to be 
mended. 

As for me I stood long in the open door- 


WILD PLUMS. 


239 


way watching the glow as it faded alike from 
sky and river, and the shadows gather softly. 
Nearer Mrs. Zane was hushing one of her little 
flock to sleep with Watt’s Cradle Hymn; and 
listening I heard the words that from my 
mother’s lips had so often lulled my own child- 
hood: 

“Hush my child, lie still and slumber, 

Holy angels guard thy bed, 

Heavenly blessings without number, 

Gently falling on thy head.” 

And withal the serenity of the hour and 
scene entered my own heart, and as I turned 
back into the room the old words of the Psalm- 
ist sprang to my lips, “ I will both lay me down 
in peace, and sleep : for thou. Lord, only makest 
me dwell in safety.” 


CHAPTER XXIL 


THE ALARM. 

Looking early from my window the next 
morning I saw a tall and stalwart figure swing- 
ing with quick strides over the slope, and knew 
that John Lyon had started on his duty as 
scout. My thought went after him on his lonely 
way, more dangerous to him than ever, since 
his escape from them could but add to the 
hatred of the Indians : and when later we gath- 
ered at Colonel Zane’s for the simple service 
that marked our Sabbaths I breathed a little 
prayer for the safety of one who was treading 
the way of peril that we might sit secure. 

Monday morning dawned clear and fine. 
Well do I remember its date, September 12, 
1782, the light mist over the river quickly 
rolled away before the sun, and early the work 
of the day begun ; boys were laughing as they 
drove the cows afield; the sound of blacksmith 
Reikert’s hammer on his anvil rang out its 
busy tune, and I wondered if it was my father’s 
logging-chain that he was working on : the 
steady beat, beat, told that the shuttle was fly- 
240 


THE ALARM. 


241 


ing in some one’s loom; and from the Zane 
kitchen came old Aunt Kate’s voice in a melody 
timed to the plunge of her strong arms in the 
snowy suds. After its Sabbath rest the settle- 
ment was a-stir with active life. 

As I was putting my last pewter plate in its 
place on the shelves I saw a shadow pass the 
window, and a moment later Elizabeth stepped 
in the doorway, “ And on what task is Phoebe’s 
mind intent this fair morning?” she asked 
with that blithe tone which always gave my 
spirit, however timorous or heavy it might be, 
an upward tilt. 

“ On plum preserves, an it please you.” 

“ I thought as much. Now I also have a 
leading of the spirit, as my Quaker forebears 
would say, to the making of plum preserves, 
and how would you like me to bring mine here 
and keep you company ? ” 

I clapped my hands, “ Like it to be sure I 
would.” 

“ I have the more reason to ask it that Aunt 
Kate has just invited me to ' clar out wid my 
bodderin’,’ and the kitchen, you know, is Aunt 
Kate’s realm, especially of a Monday morning. 
My reputation likewise is at stake, for I had 
volunteered the preserve, the better that my 
good sister-in-law and Patty McCulloch might 


242 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


give themselves to the warping in of a piece 
of flannel against the need for winter frocks. 
Blue and green it is to be, a twO' and two thread 
plaid; and when that is out a piece of scarlet, 
the real cochineal color as well as extra fine 
is to follow, and from this I have a mind for a 
scarlet flannel dress in which I may appear at 
the Christmas dance, when all the young men, 
doubtless, will want me for a partner,” and 
catching her skirt between her fingers she 
courtesyed low as if to an imaginary partner.” 

“ And to whom will the favor be ? ” I asked. 

“ Bless me, child, how can I tell. Some gen- 
eral of renown may have come by that time; 
the Governor of Virginia may even happen 
this way and seek the honor. 

“ But to go back to those plums, which, as I 
have explained, sister Betsey having her hands 
already full has placed in mine, the more readily 
that I begged the privilege. I have sent the 
children out to play Indians in the fort, that 
they may neither tease me for sweets nor 
stories ; so I will bring over my ‘ bodderin’ ’ 
as Aunt Kate calls it, and we will get to work.” 

I had freshened up the fire when Elizabeth 
returned with a basket of plums on one arm 
and a small brass kettle on the other. As she 
laid out her cakes of maple sugar in a row on 


THE ALARM. 


243 


the table, which by this time I had scoured 
fairly smooth, she glanced at the iron pot I was 
lifting from its peg, “ You ought to have a 
brass kettle too,” she said. 

“ I know,” I answered dubiously, that this 
will darken the plums, but I haven’t any other, 
though Father said this morning that he would 
send to Pittsburg and try and get me a brass 
one.” 

Elizabeth thought a moment, Aunt Nabby 
has a small brass kettle, just the size you want. 
I’ve seen her use it, let us run over and borrow 
it.” 

Early as it was her cabin was in flawless 
order, for Aunt Nabby was a notable house- 
keeper, and she was sitting just inside the door 
carding wool, with a pile of fleece on one side 
and soft white rolls on the other, “ The rolls 
ain’t so even es they’d ort ter be,” • she ex- 
plained “ fer the wolves killed the sheep, poor 
critter, an the wool was all torn. But I sed 
we’d no wool ter waste, an’ I’ll make it do.” ^ 
Yes I borrer an’ lend,” as I made my re- 
quest. Then she gave a chuckle, “ When I 
say that it make me think o’ a powerful no 
’count family I knew over on South Branch, 
hadn’t no sign o’ a kittle an’ was forever bor- 
rerin’ one. But bimeby they got a wooden 


244 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


pail, an’ their boy, he wan’t very bright, went 
around sayin’ that now they wasn’t a goin’ ter 
borrer ner lend any more. ’Twan’t long afore 
he comes again an’ sets down before the fire, so 
I asked him how’s their pail ? ^ Wal,’ he sez, 

‘ we tried ter cook the dinner in it an’ it burn’d 
up, an’ now we’r goin’ to borrer an’ lend 
both ’ ” and she laughed till her cap border 
shook. 

But that little brass kittle, ef I let ye take 
it ye must promise to be mighty keerful. My 
husband brought it over the mountains on 
horseback, an’ I never lend it till I hev a 
promise that it shan’t be burned ner dented.” 

“ It will be safe with Phoebe, she is one of the 
careful kind,” Elizabeth hastened to promise 
for me. 

“ Humph,” was the response, “ I ain’t so 
sure o’ either of ye. Ye’ll git ter gigglin’ an' 
talkin’ about the beaus, an’ fergit what ye ort 
ter be tendin’ ter, an’ fust ye know that plum 
sass ’ll be bilein’ over the top, an’ burnin’ on 
the bottom both.” 

“ Why Aunt Nabby ! ” cried Elizabeth, “ the 
idea, we never talk about the beaus.” 

“ Take the little kittle an’ go long with ye,” 
giving us both a poke with the cards, “ I guess 
I know what gals be, I was one myself once.” 


THE ALARM. 


245 


Quickly we had sobered down to the serious 
business in hand, “ I wish I could have these 
like Aunt Alsara’s preserves,” I said as we 
carefully weighed out our fruit and sugar on 
the iron steelyards, pound for pound. Hers 
were always so thick and clear, and she had a 
whole row of jars, with bladder skins tied over 
their tops, in the cupboard off the parlor, but 
I don’t suppose I could make these as nice any- 
way, the sugar is so different from that she 
used.” 

“ Now Phoebe,” and Elizabeth carefully 
poured in the water for her syrup. “ I’m sur- 
prised to hear you still longing for the flesh 
pots of Egypt. Wait till next spring when we 
go out into the woods, as I have many a time, 
and drihk the sap as it comes from the maple 
trees, and watch the syrup boiling in the great 
kettles, and taste the warm sugar, and I’m sure 
you’ll own that it is the best sweet in all the 
world.” 

With that we hung the two brass kettles side 
by side on the crane in the wide fireplace. Nor 
did Aunt Nabby’s prophecy come true, we 
neither forgot our preserves, nor did they boil 
over or burn; our housewifely skill was at 
stake, and our watchful attention was not suf- 
fered to relax for a moment. The black wasps 


246 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

smelt the odor that floated out the door, and 
came sailing in with slow wide circles; and 
presently the small Zane’s lured it may be in 
the same manner, came and sat in a row in the 
doorway and, with more or less mild difference 
as to proportions, we shared to them toothsome 
“ shimmings.” Then, best of all, came the 
proud moment when we viewed our finished 
product, ruddy of hue, rich of flavor, and 
amber clear. I felt that even Aunt Alsara 
would, approve, and fired by this success I 
looked out her famous recipe for pound cake, 
with the intent of speedily compounding that 
also. 

The dinner hour of that calm sunny Sep- 
tember day was over ; the men had gone back 
to their work in shop or field ; from a distance I 
could hear the rhythmic steady strokes of an 
ax that told of some great forest tree hastening 
to its downfall. Near by lines of white gar- 
ments fluttered here and there, beyond the 
fields of corn were standing tall and straight, 
the leaves still green but the darkened tassels 
telling of the fast yellowing kernels under the 
close-folded husks. In another field I could see 
men cutting down the dense green thicket of 
hemp, whose tall close growth I had watched 
through the summer days. Slowly but steadily 


THE ALARM. 


247 


across the field they came, each grasping his 
short sharp reaping-hook, gathering to him an 
armful of the standing hemp, then with a quick 
motion flinging it behind, where in billowy 
swaths of whitish green it lay shimmering 
across the field, its strong and pungent odor 
filling all the air. 

All this I noted as I stood just outside the 
door on the way to the spring for fresh water. 
Then my eyes sought, as they so often did by 
day and night, the walls of the fort, rising like 
an old veteran, blackened and scarred by past 
conflicts, but now sitting grimly peaceful in 
the sunshine, looking down on the homes 
clustered close around, and the broad river 
flowing at its feet. Through th& wide open 
gate I could see the tall and heavy grass grow- 
ing inside, proof of how little it was trodden, 
and hear the laughing shouts of the children 
who found their favorite playground about its 
empty cabins. 

I paused a moment to notice the ripening 
peaches on a clump of trees that grew almost 
like a thicket against the oak stockade. A turn 
in the path, and down at the edge of the river 
a group of cattle were drinking, some standing 
lazily in the cool water with an occasional flirt 
of a wet tail toward the flies on their back. 


248 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

Idly watching them I saw first one and then 
another, suddenly lift their heads as if their 
attention had been attracted. Following the 
direction in which they seemed to be looking I 
too looked out over the river, to where some 
dark object could be seen above on the surface. 

Nearer it came and nearer, not floating with 
the current but making steadily across. Then 
I understood, it was a head, someone was swim- 
ming the river. Why was he doing that, I 
vaguely wondered, why had he not waited to 
signal a boat. Nearer he came with swift 
strong strokes, he had reached shallow water, 
he had touched the shore, without even a pause 
for breath he was hurriedly climbing the bank. 
Then I started. It was, yes, it was John Lyon, 
weaponless, coatless, the water dripping from 
his hair and clothes. He was running now, 
shouting and making eager gestures, at first I 
could not understand the words, then, with a 
shuddering horror that chilled every nerve I 
caught the cry, “ The Indians ! the Indians are 
upon us! 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


TO THE FORT. 

I WAS not the only one who heard; from his 
blacksmith shop Jacob Reikert came running 
in his leather apron, a red-hot iron still glow- 
ing in his hand; and Colonel Zane sprang from 
his door, “ Where ? How near ? I heard him 
demand. 

“ Beyond the river, in force, supported by 
British troops,” came the panting answer, 
“ Give the alarm, quick, there’s not a minute to 
lose.” 

Then the cry swept on, caught from lip to 
lip, The Indians! The Indians! To the 
Fort ! ” It seemed but a moment till the street 
was full of people, and through them, while 
the cry was still echoing, dashed a horse and 
rider, “ It is my father,” said Lydia Boggs at 
my elbow, as I gazed after him dully. “ He is 
on Brown Bess, the swiftest horse in Wheel- 
ing, going to give warning to the other settle- 
ments and summon help.” 

“ Attention, men,” a voice rang out clear 
and high. It was Colonel Zane, erect, calm, 
249 


250 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


forceful, his eye was kindled, his face set, often 
before had he faced danger, and now again he 
met it with an undaunted front. ‘‘ Your rifles, 
each one to his post in the fort. We have no 
garrison we must depend upon ourselve^s alone. 
And befor^ us is a double foe, British and In- 
dian; on the sea-board the struggle for Inde- 
pendence is won, for us it is hand to hand. Nor 
for ourselves alone must we fight, but for the 
frontier; if Fort Henry falls, if Wheeling is 
wiped out, not a life on the Ohio is secure. We 
know what is before us, now let us meet it. 
Silas,” to , his brother, Captain Boggs has 
gone to give the alarm, will you command the 
fort?” 

“ Why not command it yourself? ” 

“ My house is built for defense, I can serve 
the fort better by holding that. Make haste, 
all, there’s not a moment to lose.” 

Haste ! on every side was a turmoil of haste, 
but I stood as if rooted to the spot shaking with 
cold terror, “ Phoebe,” and a hand was laid on 
my arm, O Elizabeth,” my voice sounding 
to me as something far away, “ I think I shall 
die.” 

“ Oh, no, you will not,” there was no tremor 
in her voice it was only a trifle higher, “ you 
are going to bring what you care for most from 


TO THE FORT. 


251 


your house and go into the fort with the rest 
of us.” 

The mind works strangely indeed in times of 
great excitement, with her words the thought 
of the . borrowed kettle came to me, “ Why 
there’s Aunt Nabby’s little brass kettle,” I ex- 
claimed, “ I mustn’t let the Indians get that,” 
and the spell broken I ran swiftly toward our 
cabin. 

Already the men were busy arming them- 
selves with tomahawks, knives, spears, loading 
and priming rifles, carrying powder, provisions 
to the fort, looking to the defenses. Old Mr. 
Mills, leaning on his staff came bearing an old 
Queen’s arm, and men crippled from injuries 
already received, and risen from sick beds, 
were making an effort to help. From every 
side women were running toward the fort, some 
carrying children, others such articles of value 
as they could most quickly gather, in most 
cases money and valuable papers being first 
secured. One woman I met carried her feather 
bed and a baby, another a bundle of clothes, one 
a tea-pot, still another the big family Bible, 
I the article most valued, or first seen. 

At our door I met my father rifle in hand, 
just as he had hurried in from the field, I 
would stay and help you if I could Phoebe,” he 


252 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


paused to say, “ and I never thought to fight the 
British again, but there is no time, every 
man is needed. Pick up what few things you 
can and hurry to the fort.’’ 

“ O Father,” I could not help the cry,” it is 
so dreadful ! ” 

“ I know it, dear child,” he groaned, “ I 
ought never to have brought you here to face 
it.” 

“ Oh, no,” I protested, “ I am no child, I 
will not be childish, and if you must be in 
danger I am glad tO' share it with you.” 

He bent and kissed me, “ That’s my brave 
Phoebe, be quick, and God keep you,” and he 
was away. 

looking around the first thing I saw was 
the jar of plum preserves that I had made with 
such care so little while before. “ The Indians 
shan’t have these to feast on,” was my thought. 
Looking around for a hiding-place my eye fell 
on a board in the floor that I knew to be loose, 
hastily lifting this I lowered the jar, replaced 
the board, and filling Aunt Nabby’s kettle and 
my arms with what seemed to me most pre- 
cious, joined the hurrying groups toward the 
fort. 

Outside her door Mrs. Zane was standing. 


TO THE FORT. 


253 


and remembering what she had so lately suf- 
fered at the hands of the Indians by the death 
of her brother I looked at the serenity of her 
face with wonder. When she saw me she came 
and put her hands on my shoulders, “ This is 
a dark day, Phoebe, but we have One who is 
our refuge and our fortress, ' my God; in Him 
will I trust,’ ” and in those words I knew her 
secret. 

Inside the fort was a scene of confusion, the 
cabins as well as the central store-house had 
been opened and were heaped with the hastily 
gathered provisions and effects. Already fires 
were kindled, men were running bullets, 
powder and ammunition were being given out, 
and every possible preparation made for the 
momentarily expected attack. Presently some 
one exclaimed “Where’s Aunt Nabby? she 
isn’t here.” True, no Aunt Nabby was to be 
seen, was it possible that no alarm had reached 
her ? “ Phoebe,” said Elizabeth, “ come with 

me and we’ll run over to her house for her.” 

James Boggs and another boy followed us 
as we hurried by the deserted houses, whose 
doors were for the most part swinging open 
with fires still burning on the silent hearths. 
Reaching Aunt Nabby ’s we found her calmly 


254 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


sweeping the floor, “ Why Aunt Nabby,” 
cried Elizabeth, don’t you know that the In- 
dians are coming to attack us.” 

“ I can’t help it ef they be,” and she pushed 
back her wide cap border and looked at us over 
her horn spectacles, “ ef the Injuns come an’ 
skelp me I’m not goin’ to leave this house till 
it’s red up an’ things put ter rights.” 

“ But you must gO' now,” urged James 
Boggs, They want to shut the gate of the fort 
and make it secure.” 

Aunt Nabby gave a sniff, “ I guess there’s 
no gret o’ hurry. I’ve heerd Injun scares all 
my life.” She turned to me, You didn’t 
burn my brass kittle did ye ? ” 

“ No, and I carried it to the fort where it 
would be safe.” 

'‘Ye did, did ye? Well I reckon I’d better 
go an’ look arter it, no knowin’ what some- 
body ’ll want ter use it fer. I’ll take my broom 
erlong too,” and she threw it over her shoulder. 

Hardly were we inside the fort again when 
the great gate was shut and the heavy bolts 
drawn. As I was looking around for my father 
Andrew Zane came to me, “ Phoebe, your fa- 
ther wanted me to tell you that he is to be with 
my brother in the blockhouse, but he felt you 


TO THE FORT. 


255 

would be safer in the fort, and we will take care 
of you.” 

As he spoke Elizabeth passed. I caught her 
arm, “ Don’t leave me,” I pleaded, Father 
isn’t going to be here, let me go with you ? ” 

She hesitated, “ But I am going up in the 
sentry-box to load rifles for Jonathan, he and 
John Salter have that for their post.” 

“ I can load a rifle too,” I urged “ Father has 
been teaching me in case of need; and I’m not 
so afraid when I’m with you.” 

“ Come on then, you can load for John.” 

Hastily we climbed up the rude ladder to the 
sentry-box, which overlooked both the fort and 
the surrounding region. The two men were 
already there examining their rifles; below us 
the hastily gathered people were running here 
and there bringing order out of the first con- 
fusion; outside stood the deserted cabins in 
the sunshine, with^no stir of life anywhere ex- 
cept at Colonel Zane’s, where we could see 
every preparation for defense was being made. 
The cattle were slowly going up from the river, 
the tinkle of their bells coming softly on the 
air. And beyond rose the forest, holding who 
could tell what of horror, creeping through 
bush and fern silently, nearer, nearer. 


256 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


And it was not long we had to wait, hardly 
were we all in our assigned places when I heard 
a quick exclamation from Jonathan Zane, 
“ Look Silas,” to his brother who had come up 
for a survey, there they come.” And follow- 
ing the direction of his hand I saw what at the 
distance looked like dark shadows moving in 
the edge of the woods. 

“How many men have we?” he suddenly 
asked. 

“ Twenty-seven in all, counting in old Mr. 
Mills, and six boys; but leaving out the cripples 
and those down with the ague, there’s only 
eighteen able-bodied men for efficient service.” 

My heart sank, eighteen men against an In- 
dian assault. But there was little time for fore- 
bodings. “ When they find they are too late to 
surprise us they may go back,” John Salter was 
saying. “ But no, here they come, the British 
ahead; and by the Lord, with music too.” 

As he spoke there was a sound of fife and 
drum, a glint of color among the brown tree 
trunks; then a company of men in the scarlet 
British uniform, with the British flag displayed 
at their head marched boldly out in regular 
order. “ Lucky for us they didn’t get here 
half an hour earlier,” was Jonathan Zane’s 
comment, “ Fifty British soldiers, counting the 


TO THE FORT. 


257 


advancing force, ' Queen’s Rangers ’ with Cap- 
tain Bradt commanding.” 

“ I wonder if he’s heard of the surrender of 
Cornwallis yet ? ” exclaimed Elizabeth, per- 
haps you’d better tell him of it.” 

Behind the English soldiers came a crowd 
of dusky forms hideous in war paint and 
feathers. Jonathan Zane ran them over with 
a practiced eye, '' Senecas and Delawares,” was 
his comment. Already I had noticed that they 
seemed to be commanded by a white man, when 
he gave a half whistle, “ And led by George 
Girty.” 

An Indian attack led by a Girty. When I 
thought what that combination might mean to 
us I grew fairly faint. I glanced at Elizabeth, 
her head was lifted high, her eyes were steady, 
and there was not a quiver of fear on her face; 
and with the gaze something of courage crept 
again into my chilled veins. 

Steadily they advanced, the red flag with the 
cross of St. George lifting and falling in the 
light breeze, the music ringing loud and clear. 
Good players those,” was John Salter’s com- 
ment, “ never heard better music in my life.” 

On they came, down the empty street, and 
deployed out before the fort. Save for a sharp 
word of command it had been a silent advance. 


258 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


but now, with his colors still borne before him, 
the British captain advanced and formally de- 
manded the surrender of the fort, in the name 
of his majesty. King George, of England; at 
the same time promising British protection to 
the garrison. 

A moment’s silence followed, then, Fire 
on his standard,” rang the order of Silas Zane. 
And a rending volley through the flag carried 
with it the answer that was at the same time a 
defiance. And it was so understood. Captain 
Bradt stepped back; was a brief conference 
followed betwixt him and the Indians’ white 
leader, there was a brandishing of weapons, 
and then with that most horrible of sounds 
that ever greeted human ears, the Indian war- 
cry, they rushed forward for an assault. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


BELEAGUERED. 

With that from the loop holes of both fort 
and blockhouse white puffs of smoke sprang 
and a deadly volley leaped from the rifles in 
the hands of those skilled frontier marksmen; 
and before it our assailants hesitated, wavered, 
fell back. 

But not for long. It had been an impetuous 
assault, and waiting only to rally, with that 
fearful yell which no matter how often one 
heard it gave the same thrill of half paralyzed 
horror, they returned to the attack. After that 
there was little time to see or even to think, we 
were so busy loading for the men to fire. And, 
I cannot tell how it was, but now that we were 
in the face of danger the fear which had 
clutched my heart slipped away, in its place 
came a cool calmness and I am quite sure that 
my hand was steady as it measured out the 
powder and pressed the bullet into place. In- 
deed I should have been ashamed to have shown 
alarm even had I felt it, for around me not even 
a nerve quivered. 


259 


26 o 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


As I recall the scene now it seems more a 
feverish dream of terror than a reality: those 
naked savages, their faces disfigured with paint 
and distorted by passion, leaping, screaming, 
swinging their rifles, flashing their tomahawks; 
and among them quieter but none the less ef- 
fective, the British soldiers in uniform, and 
over all the English flag. And again and again, 
as often as they were beaten back, they returned 
swarming against the walls of blockhouse and 
fort. 

By its galling and constant cross-fire Colonel 
Zane well proved the value of his blockhouse to 
the fort, and from its location especially was it 
so in repelling attacks on the main gate. 
Though the garrison was so pitifully small, 
both fort and house were well supplied with 
arms, and by their courage and exertion the 
women well supported the efforts of the men. 
Looking down I could see them, each one at her 
post, moulding bullets, dealing out powder, 
loading and handing guns to the men, who 
were thus able by their rapid firing to make up 
in a large measure for their lack in numbers. 
Indeed more than one woman there could fire 
as well as load, and in the pauses of the firing 
the trumpet voice of Mrs. Betsey Wheat, an 
Amazon both in strength and temper, to any 


BELEAGUERED. 


261 


she thought laggard, could be heard all over the 
fort. 

The sentry-tower was also the post of obser- 
vation, so not only the best marksmen, but 
those who knew best the Indian mode of war- 
fare were selected for it. The Indians may not 
have known this but from the first they seemed 
to have an especial spite against the sentry 
box, and frequent were the shots they sent to- 
ward it. Once I looked up to see a stain of 
blood on Elizabeth’s arm, “ Are you 
wounded ? ” was my startled inquiry. 

“ No,” she answered coolly, “ it’s only a 
sliver from the logs, when I get time I’ll pick 
it out, I didn’t know before that white oak 
splintered so badly.” 

I soon understood, for the force of the bul- 
lets sent the splinters flying, often into our 
flesh. 

Shortly before evening, in a brief lull of the 
attack, a call from Jonathan Zane drew our 
attention to the river, down which close inshore 
a pirogue was coming. The Indians saw it 
almost as quickly, and ran down to the point 
to intercept its progress; but the men in the 
boat as quickly saw their danger, and turning 
to the bank, leaped ashore and rushed towards 
the fort. Anxiously we watched them for the 


262 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


balls flew thick and fast, but they were run- 
ning for life, the gate was unbarred and ready 
to open, and they were soon inside. 

“ It’s Copeland Sullivan,” John Salter had 
exclaimed, as the leader, a grizzly old soldier 
drew near, “ well there ain’t any Injun tricks 
that he don’t know.” 

A moment later we heard his voice, loud and 
hearty, ‘‘ An’ what’s all this mane ? Who’d a 
thought o’ rinnin’ into such a hornet’s nest of 
rid coats an’ rid divils ? ” 

It means they want our scalps,” was the 
answer. 

“ It looks loike that for a fact. An’ how 
many is they of them? I didn’t sthop fer 
countin’.” 

“ Three hundred Indians, and fifty British.” 

He looked around, “ Holy Moses, but ye’r 
puttin’ up a purty fight. Give me a gun,” and 
he limped toward some near him. 

But you are hurt,” some one said. 

‘‘ They’ve hit me in the fut, but it’s better 
to have yer fut hit than yer head. An’ it’s their 
heads I wish I could pelt with the cannon 
balls in me boat.” 

“Cannonballs?” 

“ Yes, for the fort at the falls of the Ohio. 
But ye seem ter be the ones in need of cannon 


BELEAGUERED. 


263 

at prisent, however here’s meself an’ these two 
byes with me, we’ll be pleased to lind a hand.” 

And right glad are we to have you,” said 
Silas Zane, “ Indeed with your experience I’d 
be glad to put the fort in your charge.” 

From the first I had watched with a certain 
abhorrent interest the Indian’s white leader. 
Already I had heard much of the Girty’s, for 
tales of their cruelty and treachery were com- 
mon at frontier firesides. Like Isaac Zane, 
George Girty had been captured in boyhood 
by the Indians, adopted by the Delawares, he 
had not only made their life his, but was even 
more savage and merciless. Beside his great 
influence among the Indians he had the repu- 
tation for fearless intrepidity, for consummate 
cunning, for skill and bravery; but the value 
of every quality was lost by the use to which it 
was put. 

As he led the assaults he was in clear view; 
and as I looked at him, tall, broad of chest, well 
knit of limb, with dark shaggy hair falling over 
a low forehead, his heavy eyebrows meeting 
above shifty eyes of sunken gray, his lips thin 
and compressed, and his expression dark and 
sinister, I could well believe all I had been 
told. His skill as a leader was soon shown, 
for learning prudence from his severe recep- 


264 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

tion he divided his force into small parties, and 
attacked the fort at different points, then turn- 
ing toward the base of the hill, and as it were 
under the protection of the fort itself, he kept 
up a constant fire till darkness came. 

As I have said the captain’s house inside the 
fort was two stories high, with a flat top from 
which the small cannon mounted there could 
be fired. This cannon had a history, it had 
been found in the Monongahela by a man while 
swimming, one that had been spiked and thrown 
into the river by the French when they aban- 
doned Fort Duquesne, and after all these years 
was now to see service once more. 

A year or so before the young men about 
Fort Henry had tried to make a wooden can- 
non. The Indians, always lurking around, had 
known of the attempt and thought this was the 
one, so when they saw the men training it into 
range they only laughed derisively and shouted, 
“ Shoot, shoot, we no fraid wooden gun, 
shoot ! ” At last as the whole force was press- 
ing up in a dense column the old “ bull dog ” 
as it had been named, was let off, and like a 
wide swath the ball cut through the ranks of 
astonished Indians. While the British captain, 
who used to cannon well knew the sound, at the 
first report cried out to his dusky comrades in 


BELEAGUERED. 


265 

arms, Stand back; by God, there^s no wood 
about that/' 

Such had been the daylight and the night 
brought little respite. The sick and the chil- 
dren were gathered into the cabins where fires 
were kindled on the long unused hearths, for 
the September nights were chill. For the rest 
no one dared leave his post, the men ate the 
food brought them with one hand on the rifle, 
and through the darkness we listened with 
strained ears not knowing but every rustling 
leaf might be the enemy. 

The firing at the fort now was occasional 
instead of incessant, once when this had ceased 
and for a little time all was quiet, as I looked 
out a loop hole something caught my eye, first 
something red and glowing moving low down, 
and then a dark shadowy figure creeping beside. 
I called the attention of the others to it, when 
Jonathan Zane remarked, “ An Indian with a 
firebrand, what mischief is he after now?” 

We were not long in doubt, straight toward 
the kitchen adjoining Colonel Zane’s block- 
house he crawled, then raising himself from the 
ground he waved his brand back and forth in 
the air to rekindle it into a torch which should 
reduce the house from which they had suffered 
so much to ashes. I heard the click of a trigger 


266 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


beside me, but it was needless, for just as the 
Indian was stooping again to kindle the flame, 
there was a sharp report, he dropped his torch 
and with a howl hobbled away, and we heard 
Daddy Sam call after him, “ Hi, dar, you’d 
better clar out.” Already we had guessed 
what we afterwards learned, that it was the 
keen eye of Daddy Sam, who with Aunt Kate 
was keeping watch in the kitchen, that had 
seen the Indian and thus thwarted his intent. 

The night also gave time for the little gar- 
rison to strengthen the long unused defenses, 
for it had become evident that the heavy oak 
pickets forming the stockade were so much de- 
cayed in places that it could not have with- 
stood a united pressure from the enemy. In- 
deed during the night several at the corner 
from which the hottest fire had been kept up 
gave way, and fell, but fortunately the darkness 
aided by a dense growth of peach trees on the 
outside, which but that afternoon I had been 
noticing, formed a screen, so our foe remained 
ignorant of their opportunity, and they were at 
once replaced. 

And morning when at last it came brought 
little brightness; river a^id field might smile 
in the sunlight but between was that array o‘f 
dark and savage faces; the stillness of autumn 


BELEAGUERED. 


267 


calm lay over the hills but jeers and yells rang 
in our ears, and what the day might bring to 
us no heart could tell. 

“ Niver mind ladies,” I heard Sullivan's 
shrill tone as he took a cup of the hot coffee 
that was being passed around, we may be 
few in number but yer courage and strength 
makes us so strong that we're sure to win 
the day, niver be afraid.” 

“ Who talks of bein' afraid ? ” demanded 
Betsey Wheat's strident voice. Ef any man 
here dares say the word, be it Conrad er one o' 
my own four boys. I’ll throw him over the 
stockade an' let the Injuns cut his coward heart 
out,” and looking at her brawny form I did 
not know but that she would have done it. 

Though the Indians still surrounded the fort 
they delayed resuming the attack; at the same 
time from their looks and menacing actions it 
was easy to see that they had by no means 
given up its capture but were only preparing 
themselves to make that more sure. The boat 
and its load which Sullivan had been forced to 
abandon was now in their hands, and by their 
yells of delight it was evident that they thought 
they had found in it a way to demolish the 
fort. 

What are they about now ? ” asked Silas 


268 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


Zane, who had come up into the sentry-box. 
And watching presently we saw a group run- 
ning from the woods dragging with them a 
hollow log, while still others tugged up the 
iron balls and seemed to be fitting them to the 
opening. 

“ Holy Moses,’' cried Sullivan. ‘‘ they’re 
thrying tO' make a cannon ! ” and so in truth 
they were. 

“ What are they after in my shop ? ” growled 
blacksmith Reikert, who still in his leather 
work-apron, was peeping from a loop-hole. 

He had not long to wait for an answer, 
quickly they came out dragging my father’s 
heavy log-chain which they wrapped closely 
about the log, and then elevated as though it 
had been indeed a cannon, “ See, see, our artil- 
lery come too,” dancing around in frantic de- 
light. Then they began to load, first went in 
the ball followed by a heavy charge of powder, 
and the mimic cannon was pointed toward the 
fort, while from their jubilant yells it was plain 
that those in charge already beheld its walls 
tumbling in ruins, and those within at the 
mercy of their scalping knives. 

From the loop-holes of the fort their actions 
had been closely watched, “ Is it possible that 
they’re really going to fire that thing? ” ques- 


BELEAGUERED. 


269 

tioned Jonathan Zane. But almost as he spoke 
an Indian stepped forward and applied a lighted 
fuse. An instant, and there came a fearful ex- 
plosion, pieces flew in every direction, and as 
the smoke lifted we saw the ground around 
strewn with the killed and wounded, and those 
unhurt running from it, their rejoicing changed 
to cries of dismay. And still greater would 
have been the loss of life had not the British, 
and a large part of the Indians already sought 
the edge of the woods for rest. 

But the disaster only served to inflame. 
Quickly recovering from the shock, furious 
with rage and disappointment, exasperated 
with the fatal result, they renewed the attack 
with the blindness of frenzy, and the madness 
of despair. And again from fort and block- 
house a fire, constant, deadly, drove them back. 

For those guns were in the hands of grimly 
determined men, who felt their own strength 
our only hope. For already in response to the 
alarm, a group of horsemen, that we recognized 
as from Shepherd’s settlement, had appeared in 
the edge of the clearing, and then appalled by 
their handful against that force had hesitated 
and fallen back. Nor, remembering the safety 
of homes and families that hung in the balance, 
could we blame them. But one, Francis Duke, 


270 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


peace to a brave man’s memory, refused to 
turn with the others. They need me, I am 
going to them,” he had replied to all urging, 
and with a shout, “ Open the gate ! Open the 
gate,” he spurred his horse for the attempt. 
The gate swung wide, but the horse that dashed 
in was riderless, and the dead body of his 
master lay outside pierced by a score of bullets. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

As it drew near noon the enemy^s fire slack- 
ened a little, and as Salter emptied his powder 
horn into his rifle he called down, Send up 
some more powder ! 

A moment and George Reikert’s head ap- 
peared at the head of the ladder, Salter reached 
out his hand, ‘‘ Where’s your powder ? ” 

‘‘ There isn’t any more.” 

“ What?” 

Not enough left for a half a dozen rounds,” 

A little silence followed his words. Eliza- 
beth looked up from the oak splinter she was 
picking from her arm and for the first time dur- 
ing the siege I saw her cheek grow pale. No 
more powder and a merciless enemy just out- 
side. Neither was it strange that a greater 
quantity had not been brought into the fort, in 
view of the brief time after the alarm, and the 
fact that no one had dreamed the siege would 
last so long or be so fierce. The boy made a 
motion of his hand toward the blockhouse, 
“ Powder enough there.” 

271 


272 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


'' Yes,” was the reply, “ but how are we to 
get it?” 

Quickly the word ran through the garrison, 

The powder has given out,” and men and 
women looked in each other’s faces. For- 
tunately, though the enemy remained close 
about the fort, their fire had ceased for the time 
being, though all knew that the attack would 
be renewed, and at what moment none could 
tell. 

Withal it was a grave company that re- 
sponded as Silas Zane called the garrison to- 
gether, “ Our powder is exhausted,” he said 
simply, and you all know what that means. 
There is plenty in the magazine at the block- 
house but to go for it is an errand of such 
hazard and danger that I will command no one. 
Will anyone volunteer for the undertaking?” 

In an instant John Lyon and Jacob Clark 
stepped forward, and were followed by every 
other young man present. At that moment 
Elizabeth Zane who had been standing by my 
side pushed her way into the center of the little 
group, so pitifully small beside the foe with- 
out. 

I’ll go, let me go,” she cried. 

“ You ! Oh no ! ” came the answer from all. 

Yes, let me go,” she repeated, “ you know 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


273 


I can run almost as fast as any of you. And 
Silas,” to her brother, “ you know you need 
every man you have to defend the fort. If I 
am killed I will not be missed like a man, I 
have nO' family like so many here, there is no- 
body to cry for me, Fll go if you’ll let me, and 
you will let me,” and she looked into her 
brother’s face, her own full of eager entreaty. 

“ But you’ll not let her,” exclaimed Clark. 
“ It may mean death — or worse.” 

There was pride and affection both in his 
look as Silas Zane regarded his young sister. 
I knew how dear she was to him, and in that 
glance I saw how his spirit answered to hers. 
“ Yes, it may mean death or worse,” he said, 
“ But she is right, we cannot afford to spare a 
man, we know not what our need for them yet 
may be. Yes, Betty, you may go.” 

A glad light was on her face as she turned 
back, “ Come with me, Phoebe,” she said as 
she passed, and mutely I followed her to one 
of the near-by cabins. “ Here help me,” she 
said, “ I must take off everything I can so to 
run the faster,” 

With her words my voice came back, “ Eliza- 
beth,” and I caught her hands that were already 
unfastening her bodice, surely, surely you are 
not going. Look out and see, the Indians are 


274 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


everywhere, they will never let you come back 
alive.” 

She smiled Unless I dodge their bullets.” 

It's throwing away your life,” I pleaded. 
Don’t venture it.” 

I never counted my life dearer than any 
other life, and to-day it is worth far less than 
some here,” she answered simply, “ and if I 
could give it to help the others, why of course 
I’d do it. Give me some of your hairpins, 
Phoebe, I want to pin my hair close so it won’t 
get loose for the Indians to catch hold of.” 

I saw that urging was vain, with a heavy 
heart I gave what help I could and followed 
her back to the gateway of the fort, where her 
brothers and those with them; were waiting her. 
There was a hush as she stood motionless till 
the great gate should be opened. Always, to 
me had Elizabeth Zane been beautiful, but 
never had I seen her so lovely as at that mo- 
ment. Her eyes shone with a starry light, the 
flush on her cheek had effaced its weariness, 
and the lips were parted in a half smile. Her 
head was bare and around it her heavy braids 
of black hair were fastened high, her short 
skirt showed her supple ankle and the slim 
arched feet in their deer skin moccasins, her 
bare arms, round and white, hung loosely, the 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


275 


hands clasped before her, as she stood, her 
slender, graceful figure leaning a little forward, 
ready for the spring. 

Turning her head she saw me and smiled, 
“ Don’t cry Phoebe-bird,” she whispered, and 
till then I had not known that my own cheeks 
were wet, “ pray instead that I may run fast.” 

Then the gate creaked on its hinges, with a 
glimpse of the world outside, and a swift dart- 
ing form. At first no sound came from with- 
out and I had time tO' climb up to a loop-hole 
before the Indians had recovered from their 
surprise at her appearance. Then they uttered 
a contemptuous grunt, “ Squaw, squaw,” and 
perhaps because it was only a squaw and so 
beneath notice, they made no effort to stop or 
molest her, and the blockhouse was gained in 
safety. 

But the crucial time was yet to come. A few 
brief moments and again she was standing in 
Ithe blockhouse door. But now something 
white was fastened around her, something that 


was gathered close in her arms, and over whose 
burden she bent, as pausing a moment as a bird 
might, with feet that hardly seemed to touch 
the ground so swift they flew, she started on 
her return. When the Indians saw her coming 
back they seemed at once to suspect her errand, 


276 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


and to an accompaniment of savage yells a ter- 
rific volley was poured toward her. A spell of 
suspense held us, my heart seemed to stop beat- 
ing with the fear of seeing her fall. It was 
only sixty yards but every step was through 
that rain of fire. Pray that she might run fast, 
I was one quivering prayer. Did she stumble? 
Is she hit? No, on she comes, and fast as the 
bullets fly her step is fleeter. Once more the 
great gate of the fort creaks, Elizabeth and her 
precious burden are safe inside, and the stout 
bars go up in the face of the pursuing enemy. 

“ Here’s the powder, a whole keg of it,” she 
panted, still holding it tightly. '' Be careful 
not to spill a single spoonful. Ebenezer took a 
table-cloth from the table and tied round me 
then poured the powder in, good homespun 
linen it held stout and strong. No, I’m not 
hurt, I ran so fast they missed their aim. But 
it seemed as though the whole three hundred 
fired at once, and the bullets knocked the dust 
into my eyes so I could hardly see.” 

Then some one called “ Three cheers for 
Betty Zane.” As they rang out, a wave of 
color swept over her face, and with a courtesy 
she turned and ran into the cabin where I was 
soon beside her. Are you sure you’re not 
hurt? ” I questioned. Then something caught 



Fast as the bullets fly her step is fleeter. — Page 276. 





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BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


277 


my eye, and with a little cry I was on my 
knees holding up her skirt rent and jagged 
with a bullet hole. 

For a moment she looked at it, One, well 
by the way they sang I only wonder there’s not 
more. But don’t look so white, Phoebe, I’m 
here safe and sound, and the powder too.” 

A little later as I was crossing the fort in- 
closure I met Lydia Boggs. “ Wasn’t it 
grand ? ” I cried enthusiastically. 

She gave her heacf a little toss, “ I don’t see 
anything so very wonderful to make a fuss 
over. Molly Scott or any of us could have 
done it.” 

Well,” I retorted hotly, wonderful or not, 
what Elizabeth Zane has done to-day will make 
her name remembered long after you and I 
are both forgotten.” 

The powder had come none too quickly, and 
soon Elizabeth and I were back in the sentry- 
box loading and handing rifles. About sun- 
down the attack lulled again, and Girty, ad- 
vancing with a white flag made a second de- 
mand for the surrender of the fort. “ This is 
the last summons,” and with a heavy oath, “ if 
you refuse the fort shall be stormed and every 
soul in it massacred.” 

Taunts of defiance greeted this. “We re- 


278 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


member too well the fate of Colonel Crawford, 
to give up and be butchered like dogs,’" an- 
swered Silas Zane. 

The light of fury shot from Girty’s sunken 
eyes, I’ll tell you this,” he snapped, “ your 
doom is sealed, your messenger has been taken, 
and you may as well give up all hope of help 
or safety.” 

Then Sullivan’s shrill voice rang out, 
“ Phwat kind of a looking man was the mes- 
senger ? ” 

“ A fine, smart, active young man.” 

‘‘ That’s a dommed lie,” roared Sullivan, 
“ he’s an old gray-haired man, like myself.” A 
chorus of jeers greeted this and Girty turned 
away. 

The night which followed was even more 
trying than the one before, the enemy renewed 
the attack and kept it up with hardly an inter- 
mission till daylight. During those long hours 
the fortune of the battle often varied, and once 
the enemy seemed to have gained the advan- 
tage, but in the end every scheme was frustrated 
by the skill and energy of those within the fort, 
aided by the effective help from the blockhouse. 
More than twenty times did the Indians at- 
tempt to fire the stockade, by flinging bundles 
of hemp against the walls and firing them at 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


279 


different points. Fortunately the hemp was 
wet and would not burn, and when dry wood 
was tried that was equally in vain. 

Then came another sunrise, and a sullen 
silence took the place of the pandemonium that 
had reigned for hours. That the enemy at last 
despaired of success we soon had a token. But 
this was when the Indians began killing the 
cattle, and burning the vacant cabins, while 
with bitter hearts we looked on at the ravage 
we were powerless to prevent. 

But this was not for long. About ten o'clock 
an Indian spy was seen returning and as he 
came in sight of the fort he gave a long, deep, 
peculiar whoop. “ Ah,” exclaimed Jonathan 
Zane, “ relief is coming, he has been sent out 
to watch, and that’s the signal to be off.” He 
was correct, scarcely had the echoes of the 
sound died away when both British and In- 
dians were seen in rapid retreat toward the 
river, where they hurriedly paddled across. 
And in less than half an hour a relief party 
of seventy mounted men rode up to the fort. 

So ended the hotly contested attack on 
Wheeling and Fort Henry, one of the most 
important events in the history of the settle- 
ment of the north-west, and one upon which it 
has been said the very existence of the frontier 


28 o 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


of Virginia depended. And while the treaty 
of peace was almost consummated, here on the 
far frontier, the wooded banks of the Ohio, 
was fired the last gun by a British soldier in 
the Revolution, and its answering charge was 
with powder furnished by the unselfish heroism 
of Elizabeth Zane. 

And though spent and worn with those days 
and nights of incessant fighting we had indeed 
reason to rejoice; of the garrison only two 
had been wounded, and the heroic Francis Duke 
was the only white man who fell during the 
siege. It was a joyful hour that followed, and 
in the gladness pain and weariness were alike 
forgotten. “ We need fear no more my 
friends,” I heard Colonel Zane say, “ for the 
safety of Wheeling is by this assured.” 

“ And now that Independence is secured,” 
added my father, “ military aid and protection 
will be given the frontier; and a tide of home- 
seeking people will make secure this fair land.” 

Presently I crept away, up to the sentry- 
tower again where I had spent so many of 
these hours. Peace after deadly peril; joy 
after the shadov/ of death; the gladness, the 
blessedness of the realization, and I drew a 
breath of relief as I looked off on river, fields, 
and hills, sunlit and calm. A fragment of 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH, 


281 


paper lay on the floor at my feet, part I re- 
membered tearing off to serve as the wad for a 
bullet. I had just picked it up when I heard a 
step and John Lyon appeared. “ O John,’' 
and I had to lean against the wall for nervous 
laughing, “ just think, part of Aunt Alsara’s 
pound cake recipe has been shot at the In- 
dians.” 

“ We will hope it will agree with them.” 
He took the scrap of paper and turned it over 
in his fingers. “ I’m only a blunt, rude fron- 
tiersman, Phoebe, and I don’t know how to put 
into fine words what I want to say: but after 
the danger we have shared here together I can’t 
leave till it’s said. I know what I want, what 
I have been wanting and more and more since 
the first day I saw you.” He paused, but I 
could neither look up nor speak, “You heard 
what Colonel Zane and your father said of 
safety before us, I know not how that may be, 
but if it is safety I want you to share it, and if 
it be danger I want you to protect,” and had 
I failed to understand his words I could not the 
look his face wore. 

But my first feeling was of wonder, and I 
spoke the thought which came first, “ I thought 
it was Elizabeth.” 

He laughed, “ She knew otherwise. Eliza- 


282 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 


beth has my admiration, but Phoebe has my 
heart.” How this might be I could not com- 
prehend, perhaps I did not try. 

Again he turned the paper in his fingers, 

Is it spoiled ? ” he asked. I took it from him, 
“ No', enough is left that I can make it out; 
and because it has been through the siege I 
shall call it now Fort Henry cake.” 

“ Do, and when you make the first loaf will 
you let it be for our wedding-cake.” And if I 
promised him I do not remember, nor did it 
greatly matter. 

And then across the happy tumult of what 
seemed to me the untoward, though John would 
have it I must have been blind not to have 
seen, I heard Elizabeth’s voice just below. 
Looking down I saw Clark coming toward 
her. For all he had chosen the frontier as his 
home the nicety of dress and manner always 
showed he had known a far differently ordered 
life, but now his face was smudged with 
powder, his sleeve hung torn, the marks of the 
siege were on him as on us all. “ Elizabeth,” 
and he held up his hand for her to stop, “ I have 
hardly seen you since yesterday, I cannot leave 
Eort Henry till I have said how noble and beau- 
tiful an act yours was, and that, if it be pos- 
sible, I love you better than I did before.” 


BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 283 

I could see her face and the old gay smile 
was on her lips, ‘‘ My ears I think are some- 
what dulled with all the firing, I fail to hear 
that word.” 

“ And will you ever hear it from me? ” 

“ How can I tell, such strange things befall; 
but,” and she turned her head in bird-like fash- 
ion, “ not yet, nor for a long, long time.” 

It may be that through the years a vision 
came to him of the time when she would listen, 
for it was with a smile on his face that he 
watched her pass out the great gate, once more 
thrown wide, and on toward the blockhouse, 
the way over which so little while before she 
had sped with flying feet at the hazard of her 
life. 


CHAPTER XXVL 


FROM THEN TILL NOW. 

The predictions repeated by Phoebe Burrelle 
as made that day were well fulfilled. Never 
again was the Indian war-cry heard in the 
streets of Wheeling; never again was the pro- 
tecting shelter of Fort Henry needed, and time 
and weather at last wrought a gentle ruin on 
what the hand of the foe had been powerless 
to wreck. 

With the close of the Revolution the tide of 
home-seekers and home-makers flowed in a 
resistless tide across the long mountain way, 
and along and beyond the river the forests gave 
way to smiling farms. Under those lifted hills 
a new wealth was found, the coal, remains of 
the forests vanished before the birth of man, 
new industries sprang up, and the beautiful 
Ohio became one of the pathways of commerce. 

No longer was the frontier left to its own 
defense, and alike by treaty, and on the well- 
fought field of battle peace with the red man 
was at length assured. 

And through all these years, whose impress 
284 ' 


FROM THEN TILL NOW. 


285 


was graven so deeply that it still endures, the 
Zanes by their high character, their energy, 
their ability, held a foremost place. More than 
one office of trust came to Colonel Zane, to be 
well administered. A pathfinder in truth, one 
of the first roads cut through the woods of 
Ohio was of his making, and the city of Zanes- 
ville stands on land the reward of Congress 
for the enterprise. Isaac Zane, adopted son 
and chief of the Wyandottes, continued as he 
had ever been the firm friend of the whites, 
and in recognition of his good offices to them, 
as well as for effective later service in securing 
treaties with the Indians, he received from the 
government a grant of a thousand acres, in the 
heart of the region he had known and loved, 
where he lived out a long and honored life; 
and in proof of his wide acquaintance and 
popular esteem it is told that when he built 
his house men came from forty miles around 
to give neighborly assistance at the old time 

raising.” 

As for Elizabeth Zane, hers was the story 
of the pioneer woman of her day and genera- 
tion, cares many, trials and hardships not a 
few. But through it all to old age she kept 
the beauty of her youth; and always while life 
lasted she remained the same brave, light- 


286 BRAVE HEART ELIZABETH. 

hearted and indomitable spirit, alike uncom- 
plaining, unfaltering and unselfish. And to 
the children who gathered round her knee on 
many a winter evening did she repeat the story 
of those terrible days and nights within the 
beleaguered fort, and of the part that had been 
hers; but never said one who often heard it 
from her lips, “ did she speak of it boastfully, 
or as a wonderful matter. ’’ Those were days 
and scenes that developed heroism, and never 
was heroism more unconscious than was hers. 

But those days are long gone by : where the 
fort and cabins stood stretch crowded ,city 
streets, the solitary fields of Colonel Zane’s 
island farm are a throbbing center of busy life. 
And across the river, almost in sight of the 
spot linked with her name, in an old burying 
ground, within a quaint brick-walled inclbsure, 
under leaning grasses and sifting sunlight, 
sleeps the frontier heroine brave-hearted Eliza- 
beth Zane. 


THE END. 


Betty Seldon, Patriot 

A Revolutionary Tate for Girls 

By ADELE E. THOMPSON, Author of Beckys 
Fortune/^ Illustrated by Lilian Crawford True* 
t2mo* Cloth* 300 pages* $1*25 


T T is a great deal to say 
d- of a book that it is at 
the same time fascinating 
and noble. This is what 
“ Betty Seldon, Patriot ” is, 
and in fact no one of the 
many who read and ad- 
mired “ Beck’s Fortune ” 
would expect a book by 
Miss Thompson to be 
otherwise. Betty is a bright 
Connecticut girl, happily 
as industrious and filial as 
she is attractive. Her de- 
votion to her father, a cap- 
tain in the Continental 
army, and her experience 
with a Tory uncle, who appears upon the supposed death of 
her father and takes her to his home in Pennsylvania, pre- 
tending to be her guardian, form the basis of the book. His- 
torical events are accurately traced leading up to the surren- 
der of Cornwallis at Yorktown, with reunion and happiness 
for all who deserve it. Betty is worth a thousand of the 
fickle coquette heroines of some latter-day popular novels, 
and the historical setting of the story is strong and effective. 


LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS 
BOSTON 





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Potwin 

19. Ruth Eliot’s Dream By Mary Lakeman 

20. Seven Daughters By Amanda M. Douglas 

21. Six in All By Virginia F. Townsend 

22. Sweet and Twenty By Mary Farley Sanborn 

23. Tatters By Beulah 

24. Which, Right or Wrong? By Mary L. Moreland 

25. Whom Kathie Married By Amanda M. Douglas 

26. An American Girl Abroad By Adeline Trafton 

27. Dorothy’s Experience By Adeline Trafton 

28. Hester Strong’s Lifc' Work By Mrs. S. A. Southworth 

29. Hillsboro’ Farms, A Story for Girls By Sophia Dickinson Cobb 

30. Sally Williams the Mountain Girl By Mrs. E. D. Cheney 

31. ’Lisbeth Wilson: A Daughter of New Hampshire Hills 

By Eliza Nelson Blair 

32. Running to Waste By George M. Baker 

33. Barbara Thayer : Her Glorious Career By Annie Jenness Miller 

34. Katherine Earle By Adeline Trafton 

35. In the King’s Country By Amanda M. Douglas 



LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers BOSTON 


MAYFLOWER SERIES FOR GIRLS 


A series of books of sterling 
worth for girls, by well-known 
and popular authors, inculcating 
principles of truth and honor 
through bright and interesting 
narratives full of life, action, and 
interest, and decidedly whole- 
some and instructive. 

Each Volume Complete in 
Itself Uniform Cloth Bind- 
ing New Attractive Dies 
Illustrated Price 75 cents 
each 

1. Actions Speak Louder 
THAN Words By Kate J. 
Neely 

2. Angel Children or Stories 
from Cloud Land By 
Charlotte M. Higgins. 

3. Birds of a Feather By Mrs. M. E. Bradley 

4. Celesta a Girl’s Book By Mrs. Martha E. Berry 

5. Children of Amity Court By Louise C. Thurston 

6. Cruise of the Dashaway or Katie Putnam’s Voyage 

By May Mannering 

7. Daisy or the Fairy Spectacles 

8. Fine Feathers do not make Fine Birds By Kate J 

Neely 

9. Great Rosy Diamond By Ann Augusta Carter 

10. Going on a Mission By Paul Cobden 

11. Handsome is that Handsome does By Mrs. M. E. 

Bradley 

12. How Eva Roberts gained her Education By Louise 

C. Thurston 

13. Little Maid of Oxbow By May Mannering 

14. Little Blossom’s Reward By Emily Hare 

15. Thousand a Year By Mrs. M. E. Bruce 

16. May Coverly A Story for Girls 

17. Minnie or the Little Woman 

18. Nettie’s Trial By Mrs. S. B. C. Samuels 

19 One Good Turn deserves Another By Kate J. Neely 

20 Pinks and Blues or the Orphan Asylum By Mrs. Rosa 

Abbott Parker 

21. Shipwrecked Girl or Adele By Mrs. S. B. C. Samuels 

22. Take a Peep By Paul Cobden 

23. Upside Down or Will and Work By Rosa Abbott Parker 

24. Violet a Fairy Story 

25. Wrong Confessed is Half Redressed By Mrs. M. B. 

Bradley 





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That Queer Girl. By Virginia F. Townsend. Price $1.50. 

The “ Queer Girl ” is a charming character, and so is Rowan, the real hero. 
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Daryll Gap. By Virginia F. Townsend. Price $1.50. 

The celebrity of Virginia F. Townsend as an authoress, her brilliant 
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Mostly Marjorie Day. By Virginia F. Townsend. Price, 
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But a Philistine. By Virginia F. Townsend. Price $1.50. 

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Six in All. By Virginia F. Townsend. Price $1.00. 

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